Moonlit Shadows
by CastInMoonlight
Summary: When Annika Taylor takes over her deceased mother's farm, all seems well until something beyond her control begins to stir... Rated M for minor pervasive language, possibly disturbing violence, and some sensuality. Based on HMDS:Cute.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

After the death of my mother, I'd been given her farm. The funny thing was, I never knew her. I'd lived with my dad all my life. My mother left him with me in his care shortly after my birth—at least, that's what my dad had told me. But, over the years, I'd grown more and more curious about my missing mother-figure in my life. I never felt like I ever truly knew her.

And then, when I was nineteen, my dad died. I was suddenly without anyone to look after me. And despite my age, I felt utterly alone. The year following, I'd grown so distant from all of my friends and relatives, that I was indeed very alone for the first time in my life.

I received notice via mail nearing the end of that year that my mother had died and included me in her will. It seemed as though she'd never really been determined to keep me out of her life. It was slightly comforting to learn this about my mother.

But that was how I'd found myself on Shadow Farm. My mother had fled to Forget-Me-Not Valley in search for her new life and now, it was where I'd start mine.

Suitcase in hand and my cat Muffin tucked in my other arm, I stepped onto the farm. The field behind my new house was enormously spacious, with a single tree in its center. I couldn't help but wonder why it was so desolate, if my mother had lived here the past twenty years. The sound of a clearing throat brought me out of my reverie.

"Well, hello. I take it you're Annika, Renae's daughter? You're taking over the farm?" I was greeted by a smiling old man, who looked like he really took care of himself well. Dressed in a white sleeveless and frayed blue jeans, the man held out a hand for me to shake.

I let my cat jump out of my arm as I extended my own hand to shake his. Attempting a smile, though I knew it looked weary, I nodded and said, "Yes. That would be me. And you are...?"

"Takakura. I live in that small house by the entrance to the farm. I knew your mother; I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Actually," I told Takakura, "I didn't really know my mother. She left me in my father's hands when I was an infant."

"Oh, well..." Takakura shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I think you would have liked her. She was a very kind woman. I miss her very much." My face contorted in uncertainty, unsure of what to feel about his comment. "Anyway, I'll be here to help you get started on your farm. But then again, I'll still be here once you've gotten started." He smiled and turned to leave. After a few steps forward, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at me to say, "The front door of the house is unlocked. Keys are on the table by the phone. There's a box of tools your mother didn't really use much that I'm sure you can put to good use. Enjoy yourself." Then he continued forward toward his own home.

I gripped my suitcase and turned to find Muffin. I spotted her a distance away, playing with a blossom that had fallen from the lone tree. I smiled in spite of myself. If Muffin could find some happiness in this wasteland of a farm, I hoped I could.

**Disclaimer:** I do not in any way own Harvest Moon.

**Author's Note: **Hello any and all readers... I would appreciate very much any constructive and/or helpful reviews for the starting bit of my fanfic. Thanks!


	2. The Dream

**_The Dream_**

I spent my first day just cleaning up my new house. It seemed to not have been well kept since my mother's death. A thick layer of dust covered most of the surfaces of the house. I'd found a few cobwebs, but mostly, the thing that surprised me most was the dog.

When I first walked into the house and flipped the lightswitch on, I was assaulted by a ball of fur. The next thing I knew, I was on my back, a weight on my chest, and slobbery kisses licked upon my face. I shoved the dog off of me and got myself to my feet. The dog was pawing my feet and whimpering. I looked at it in amazement. Apparently, this dog hadn't been fed in a terribly long time. I could see that its skin was stretched tightly over its ribs. Personally, I was surprised it still had the strength to topple me over when I walked through the door. I bent down and pet it lightly, regretting that I didn't have any food to give to it.

But then I'd noticed the fridge in the kitchen. Curious, I opened it. It was stocked full of a wide variety of things. At a glance, however, I couldn't see anything I could have given the dog to eat. I pulled up a note that was taped to a milk carton and read,

"Thought I'd get some groceries for you. You'll need to get your own after this, though. x Takakura"

I searched the kitchen cupboards for a bowl and poured some milk into it. Setting the bowl on the floor by the kitchen, I saw Muffin approach from the corner of my eye. She immediately began to lap up the milk. The dog, however, was more bashful about approaching the offering. I gave her an encouraging smile and she began to drink as well. "I'll call you Leiden," I told her, patting her haunches lightly. The word meant "suffer" in German. It seemed appropriate.

And that was how my first day started. After the clean-up, I was exhausted. I crawled into the large, king-sized bed, where Leiden followed. She slept with me there.

The next morning I woke up at just before 6 A.M. Not very eager to start, I began to unpack into the chest of drawers by the phone table. After changing into a new set of clothes, I sought out to find the tools Takakura spoke of. It didn't take long. They were in a large brass-plated chest next to the door. They looked to be in fairly good shape, if I had anything to go by, but I wouldn't really know unless I tried to use any of it. I picked up the sickle and, counter intuitively, ran the tips of my fingers along the sharp edge of the curved blade. I felt the pinch of the blade slicing my fingers and pulled my hand away. Wailing, I held the injured fingers to my chest and looked for something to wrap it in. Seeing nothing, I dared to go and talk to Takakura about it.

Knocking on his door with my good hand, I waited for his answer. He opened the door and peered at me through sleepy eyes. But seeing my bloody hand really caught his attention. "What on earth happened to you?"

I explained what happened while being evasive about how exactly the sickle cut me and told him that I didn't have a way to bandage the cut.

"Come inside, I'll call Dr. Hardy." _Doctor... who?_ I wondered, but followed him inside. He led me to a sofa where I sat. The blood from my hand was dripping down my arm and staining my shirt. I grimaced. I doubted I'd ever get the stain out. Why did I choose today to wear a white shirt?

Takakura got off of his phone and sat down by me. "Dr. Hardy will be here in a while. It'll take him some time to make it here from his... er, clinic."

I nodded, but I couldn't keep my mind off of the pain that caused my hand to tremble.

"Annika?"

I whipped my head up, eyes wide. I hadn't realized I was zoning out.

"I said, you can wait in your place, and I'll direct Hardy to you when he gets here, if you'd like."

"Sure, ok."

"But while you're here, you can go ahead clean your cut. I'm sure Hardy would appreciate the effort ahead of time."

I did as he said and headed out to my house. I paused to look out at the land I'd acquired, thinking I could try to fill the barns I spotted on the edge of the field with animals. There were two large barns and two smaller ones, as well as a silo and a fairly wide shed—all things I didn't notice when first coming here, when the sun was behind the mountains on the east side to cast a sizeable shadow over the farm. It would be great to have some fowl and even sheep and cows running around the place, to care for and have keeping me company. Smiling faintly at the idea, I walked past my house to the stable by the house. I leaned over the edge of the half-door to look inside, but nothing was there. Frowning, I realized I'd have to buy a horse or two to fill it up. Horse-back riding was an activity I enjoyed growing up.

I moved away from the stable to find a little pond with clear blue water. At least I had a way to wash clothes...

When I turned to walk back to the house, a man was knocking at the door. Donned in a white labcoat, I assumed it was Dr. Hardy. He was slightly hunched and bald, but wearing some striped beach shorts with flip-flops. His appearance cast him as one of those mad-scientist/doctor types, and it made me wary. Especially with the scar that ran diagonally across his face and through his left eye. The eye in question looked like it was false, because it had a black iris and didn't move with the other.

I approached him and held out my good hand, thanking whatever divine being existed that it was the hand I wrote with. "Hi, Dr. Hardy? I'm Annika."

He shook me hand firmly and nodded. "Let's get you bandaged up, shall we?"

I let him inside and pulled a chair out for him before seating myself at the table as well.

He set a leather bag on the table and pulled out some bandages, gauze, scissors, and a tube of something that I couldn't recognize—or wouldn't be able to, for that matter. He put a rubber glove on his right hand, I held out my trembling hand for him to examine and he took it in his left. After looking at it and prodding the cuts lightly with his gloved fingers, he told me, "Well, Miss Annika, it looks like it's not deep enough for stitches or even liquid stitches. You're lucky. You best be careful with those farm tools. I hope I won't have to make too many house visits for something like this..." I felt a little guilty at this comment, but that guilt turned into indignation. I was tough enough to work on a farm... I hoped. I was certainly determined now not to get any more farming-related injuries.

In no time, he had my hand securely bandaged and was ready to leave when he paused at the door. He turned back to me and inquired, "So you're going to take over the farm?" When I nodded, he continued, "You plan to farm, hm? I'd better give you some bandages so you can fix yourself up if this kind of thing happens again." But he made it sound like he expected it to happen many times. I sincerely hoped it wouldn't.

When he left, I returned to my tool's chest. Inside, there was also a watering can, hoe, hammer, and axe in addition to the accursed sickle. In one corner, there was a pile of eight sachet bags of seeds with tags on them. The tags let me know that the seeds inside were turnip seeds. I grimaced, knowing I should get started with the farming; I grabbed the hoe and watering can with one hand and collected the seed bags in my other arm.

When I was finally finished planting and watering my three rows of twenty-four turnip seeds, I stood back to admire my work. For not knowing what the hell I was doing, it looked like I was off to a good start. I wiped the sweat off of my brow and dug into my pants pocket for a rubber band to throw my hair up into a ponytail. I had an ominous feeling that this would be my permanent hairstyle while working this farm. I didn't think I'd be able to work with my hair down. It was very thick, long, and its black color attracted the sun so that I could feel it beating down on my head without mercy. I sighed, knowing there wasn't anything I could do about the unfortunate color.

My feet were killing me. The shoes I'd chosen to wear were a pair of ballet flats, which were popular in the city, especially with the friends I had... when I had them. Now, both shoes had large tears in the bottoms. Glad that they were the only flats I had, that I'd included Converse athletic shoes in my packing, I figured I'd probably have to get some cowboy boots or something. It would take a while to break them in, but I was sure it would be worth the money in the long run.

I looked up at the clouding sky, but couldn't determine the time. Changing my gaze to my small leather-banded wristwatch, I saw that it was 6 in the evening. I grimaced and collected the hoe and watering can, running inside my house. Only then did I realize how starved I was, for not eating the entire day. I clutched my stomach as it cramped and growled in complaint. Dropping the tools by the chest, I hurried to the kitchen to find something to eat. I found a recipe book and began to flip through it. I tried for making some French toast, but realized I'd have to make it all from scratch. No time for that, I figured. So I opted to just make some scrambled eggs, something I could cook without the aid of a cookbook.

I set the plate of finished eggs on the table, but didn't sit down. I headed instead in the direction of my suitcase and dug around for a notepad and pen. But I got distracted in my efforts with the wardrobe I'd brought. Back in the city, I rarely wore jeans. My daily wear consisted of cargo pants, dress pants, or gym shorts and a shirt or blouse to compliment appropriately. Although the shirts and cargo pants—possibly even the jersey shorts—would make for good work-wear, I decided I'd have to get rid of the rest. I didn't think I could part with some of my favorite clothing, so I just decided to make it less accessible in my wardrobe when I transferred my clothes to the chest of drawers. It looked like I'd have to go clothes shopping, but I wondered what kind of selection a small town such as this would have.

Realizing my eggs were likely getting cold, I grabbed my pad and pen and returned to the table by the kitchen. The table was the length of the kitchen counter, where it was set up against. It was a bar-style seating arrangement, with four chairs—the ensemble was of normal height, I noticed, which made for more comfortable seating. Sitting down to eat, I wrote at the top of a new sheet, "Things to Buy," and began my list.

Sheep, cows, chickens, a couple of ducks, horse, jeans, shoes, tree seeds, vegetable and fruit seeds, dog food, cat food, and the list went on. I eyed my finished list with concern. I had no idea how much this all was going to cost. Returning to the fridge, I knew that in the mean time, I had to try to prepare something homemade for the animals. After a bit of digging, I discovered some packaged chicken, so I cooked that quickly, and setting it in a plate, put the dish on the floor. They came from the bedroom right away, and I found myself smiling over their eccentricity for the food.

My wristwatch read 7:15, so I doubted there was anyone I could call then about the stuff I wanted to purchase. I hoped that the money my father left me and my own checking account would be enough to get me started.

Deciding I would just turn in early... just as soon as I took a shower. The work from earlier made me feel pretty filthy, which I guess was something I'd end up getting used to. The moment my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep.

That night, my dreams were haunted with an assault of disturbing images. It started with a woman, who looked perfectly normal at first. I didn't recognize her, but she faced me fully, and seemed to beckon me to follow her. She was draped in a flowing white silk that fluttered about in a breeze I couldn't feel. Her full lips were pulled into a small worried frown. She had black hair like mine and piercing blue eyes. I felt like she knew me, somehow, but I couldn't recall where we would have met. As she stepped backward, the earth—or rather, the scenery around us—suddenly shook and I would be hard-pressed to know how I was able to stand. The mysterious woman got a pained gleam in her eye and her expression became tortured. She clutched at her chest, over where her heart would be. This was when I noticed that she was now bleeding where her hand was, and the blood flowed freely between her fingers. She reached out for me with her free hand as she knelt and fell over.

This scene dissolved and I found myself in a dark room in which a faint dripping noise could be heard. The same woman was stripped half-naked and chained to a wall. She'd sustained a sizeable head wound and was moaning slightly. She hung off her chains as if she had hardly the strength to stand. Her head shot up suddenly and stared at me with those shockingly blue eyes, which spoke to me, pleading. But I felt powerless to help this woman who obviously and desperately needed someone's help.

We both turned our attention to the dark space in front of her as footsteps sounded on the wet floor. A dark figure appeared in the circle of light that was given by a small lantern by the woman's feet. The figure seemed to be cloaked, making his features indistinguishable. However, I had the obscure feeling that it was a man underneath the black cloth. His teeth glinted as his lips pulled into a smirk. From the cloak he drew a dagger, which he flipped around his fingers dexterously before stepping forward and stabbing the woman in the blink of an eye. I found myself yelling in horrified shock for the woman as she herself cried out in pain.

This too faded away and the next thing I saw was ultimately surprising. I was gazing upon my own lifeless corpse, twisted and mangled in a grotesque position. My eyes were wide open and empty. Blood was splattered on my upper thighs, neck, and shoulders as well as trickled from my forehead. The cause of death, as far as I knew, was unknown unless I simply bled out. Nonetheless, the image was unnerving and very disturbing to say the least. I heard my name being called, but could not recognize the voices that called for me.

**Disclaimer:** I do not in any way own Harvest Moon.


	3. Feels Like Home

**Author's Note: **I realize this chapter is pretty long, and I've good news for you. This chapter isn't altogether important to the plot of my story. In summary, Annika gets moved in. The most you learn is some background information and the layout of her new home. If you choose to read, I hope you enjoy. The next chapter is on its way.

_**Feels Like Home**_

When I woke up, I was relieved. The dream—or nightmare, I should say—made me feel trapped, and waiting for the end felt like an eternity before it finally came. I could feel sweat trickling from my brow and I wiped it with the back of my hand before sliding out of my bed. But, rather than slide gracefully out to meet the new day, I fell face down on the floor in an entanglement of sheets. In my struggle, I ended up knocking my cat off the bed. She hissed at me before turning and leaping out of the door. Grunting in frustration, I finally freed myself from my temporary prison of bedding and stood.

A knock at the door reminded me of how exactly I'd awoken. I glanced at the digital clock on the bed-side table, which glared 8:32 AM at me in bright red. Without thinking, I went straight for the front door and opened it to find out who was knocking. Two men stood in the doorway—two men whose eyes opened wide and stood in a kind of awkward silence. I looked down at myself and saw that I had neglected to change into clothes that were suitable for company. I was still wearing my bubblegum pink tank top and lavender flannel pajama pants with the animal paw prints. I grimaced then turned a smile to the visitors, who had bowed their capped heads to avert their gazes. How gentlemanly. I cleared my throat to get their attention and they met my gaze. I stuck my hand out for them to shake and introduced myself. They in turn introduced themselves as Dale and Eric—my movers.

Elated, I told them to go ahead bring the boxes and try to stack them all around the kitchen area, leaving a way to get to the bedroom as well as leaving room for the furniture that would be brought in as well. Albeit, I didn't have a ton of boxes anyway. Some people, when they move to a new home, have what seems like a hundred boxes they have to unpack. I probably could have fit it all in my mid-sized SUV if I hadn't sold it. Well, maybe in two trips... but nonetheless. I hadn't thought I would need a car, and as far as I knew, I still didn't. Plus, I could use the extra cash to get started on the farm.

Which was why I had the lawyers who worked with my deceased mother's will give me a list of the furnishings of the house. Most of the things that I had doubled I sold. The one exception was my fridge/freezer combination. There was no freezer here, and I was sure I'd need it. I just figured I would sell the new house's old fridge to the same person when the movers came; they could just take it back when they left. Nothing to it. And besides that, I'd had my television, TV stand, sofa, loveseat, glass coffee table, bookcase, and desk moved to the new house.

Mere minutes later, the men were done bringing in my boxes. "Um, what piece of furniture do you want us to start wit'? I assume you need help rearranging things..." the man named Dale asked. I grinned widely and nodded.

"Let's start with moving this chest of drawers into the bedroom, shall we?" It made no sense to have it in the front room, and I wasn't altogether sure why exactly, my mother had it here in the first place. But, as I wouldn't be finding an answer to that trivial question, I decided to forget about it. Wondering about it wasn't worth my time.

I walked in ahead of the men to figure out where I wanted the chest of drawers. Because, given how red the men's faces were already becoming, the piece of furniture was _very _heavy. I looked around and made a snap decision. "Here, put it right there in the corner against the wall, facing the bed." I stepped back to let them put the chest down. Now, the only furniture in the room was the king-sized bed in the upper left corner (or northwest corner for you directional types) with the bed-side table right by the head and the chest of drawers in the northeast corner of the room. It no longer looked quite as spacious.

The men were waiting for me to give them new directions. "Let's get the desk, television, and TV stand next. The rest is going in the front room." They nodded and left. I looked out the window that was centered in the second half of the east wall. I pulled the denim curtains that framed the window on either side back more for a better view out of it. I had a clear view of Takakura's little cabin/house and where my front gate would be. However, it was now blocked in by a small moving truck. My guess for how it got here was that, either there was an outlet in the valley with access to the ocean where it could come by boat, or it came by boat to Mineral Town, like I did, and drove the mountain trail. I didn't see how it could do the latter, seeing as how even I had a hard trek when I came... was it only two days ago?

From this window I saw the men appear in the frame of vision then disappear behind the truck. A minute later, they appeared again with my desk in tow. I stepped away from the window to the center of the room to assess where the desk should go. I would've liked it to be under the window, but I wasn't sure if it would fit. The chest of drawers was wider than it was tall, with six drawers—the drawers being arranged having two rows of three.

They appeared a couple minutes later in their slow, steady pace. I voiced my opinion about the stretch of wall between the south wall and the chest of drawers, and they moved to put it where I indicated. Luckily, it fit perfectly, with hardly a centimeter left in between. I jumped and clapped in excitement which ended as soon as I realized what I was doing. But the men were already gone to get the TV and its stand.

The stand came back first. Well, technically, the stand was more like a miniature bookcase with glass doors. It was only two-and-a-half feet tall and slightly wider than that. Inside were two dividing shelves that provided three sections for my assortment of DVDs and video tapes and the players for both. I had Dale and Eric put it against the south wall facing the king-sized bed.

Next came the television, which was sizeable, but not huge. It was flat-panel and high definition so its size never bothered me.

Now, as the guys went out to get the next piece of furniture I set to work rearranging things in the front room. The phone and its table were right in front of the phone jack for its connection. I dug around the boxes until I found the extension I'd used in my apartment in the city and hooked that up with the existing cable. I slid the table to the northwest corner of the room. I took the contents out of the two drawers in the table and set them on the bar-table. Then I moved back to my stacks of boxes to dig around for my shaggy white rug, which I unrolled and laid on the floor. It looked strange, with the rug in the middle of the floor, but I'd positioned it in such a way where the sofa and loveseat I had could be arranged around it as well as against the walls where I wanted them.

Dale and Eric came in first with the sofa, and I instructed them to set it down against the west wall, directly beside the phone table. This put the sofa about six inches away from the rug I'd placed on the floor. I, for one, was impressed that I'd placed it so accurately. I couldn't help but grin to myself.

They brought the loveseat in next, which I had placed against the north wall and again beside the phone table, closing the table in. It formed a nice 'L' in that northwest corner. My glass coffee table came next and was placed on the rug in front of the loveseat and sofa, leaving plenty of leg-room, of course. The bookcase was then placed in the southwest corner, against the west wall and facing the same direction as the sofa.

The last piece of furniture was my fridge/freezer, I knew, so I had the guys disconnect the old fridge first and set it by the door before they left to retrieve the new one. While they left to collect the last item on the truck, I emptied the fridge of its contents and put them on the counter to the left of the... fridge space.

By the time I was finished with this chore, Dale and Eric had retrieved my shiny chrome fridge/freezer. They kind of had to squeeze the thing in between the counter and the oven, so it was harder to connect this new fridge's wires and coils than it was to disconnect the old one. I had to climb over the table and left-side counter to crawl into the space behind where they set the new fridge and hook up things myself. When I climbed back out, any and all dust that had been behind there was now on my clothes. I grimaced and brushed myself off, which was an action I instantly regretted when the dust fell in a sheet to the ground, a corner of the rug, and on the loveseat's arm. I stepped carefully to position myself in front of the loveseat to try and blow the dust from the arm to the floor. Most of it came off. But the rest was certainly cleanable with some water and a towel.

The guys loaded the old fridge on the truck and came back to confirm that they would have Linda, my father's sister and my aunt who ran the moving company I'd hired, send the money to me for the old fridge when she received it. I requested that she send cash rather than a check, since there were no banks in this rural valley. I also told them to take fifty G each in tip from the selling price of it. I didn't think it would sell for anything more than that and certainly not less, so I figured I was safe. Dale and Eric tipped their hats and thanked me for my generosity. They left promptly afterward.

I stood by the door of the house and looked in at it to get a good view. To be truthful, it looked almost too perfect. The walls had been previously textured and painted with the lightest of blues—almost white in color, but with a blue tint—and had white floor moldings. The hardwood floor was a classic mahogany that contrasted well with the wall colors. My sofa and loveseat were denim and had white accent pillows. The denim color matched the bedspread and curtains on the windows exactly, which I thought was too good to be true. Yet, here I was looking right at it. I shook my head, unbelieving of my good fortune. Then my fridge caught my eye. Whereas the oven and appliances were all black and the kitchen tiles and countertops were white, my fridge was stainless steel and glimmered slightly in the light. I grimaced at how my image of perfect décor was suddenly shattered by the chrome. Trying to think of positives, I pointed out to myself that the handles and rubber insulators were black and therefore matched the rest of the kitchen appliances.

Sighing in satisfaction, I moved to unpack my boxes, hoping against all odds that I could finish unpacking today so I can focus on meeting neighbors or whatever tomorrow. I glanced at my wristwatch and saw that it was now nearly half past ten in the morning. I was admittedly amazed at the efficiency of the movers—there were definitely no regrets at the more than generous tips I'd given them. I picked up the top box from the first stack, determined to work one box at a time _until it was all done_.

I set this box on the coffee table, opened it, and discovered that it was one of the boxes I'd filled with classics books. Before I'd dropped out of college, I'd been working for a major in English. I'd wanted to be an English teacher at the time, but I gave it up when my father died. I didn't blame anyone but myself for giving up my dream. But I certainly hoped I could have a fulfilling life here to make up for my blunders at my dad's expense.

I placed the books in the bookcase in alphabetical order, which was merely a compulsion of mine. The next two boxes in the stack were also filled with books; by the time I'd finished putting the last book on the shelves, my bookcase was once again restored of its literature. Turning away from the bookcase, I returned to the stacks of boxes. Trying to keep out of mind how long this was really going to take, I opened up the last box of the first stack and saw that it was full of towels and washcloths for the bathroom.

The bathroom door was close to my bedroom's. The walls containing the doors met at a right angle. Stepping into the bathroom, I put my navy towels and washcloths in the cupboard underneath the sink. I kept two larger bath towels out to put on the rack mounted on the west wall. The bathroom was originally decorated in all white—white floor and shower tiles, white walls and floor moldings, white countertop, white toilet and sink; the only things that weren't white were the cupboard underneath the sink—which was oak wood—and any metals, which were a shiny silver color. Now, with the addition of my navy towels, washcloths, and rug that I would add, it looked much less... blah.

I returned to my stacks and brought out another box. This was full of my desk things: pencils, pens, tape, stapler, three-hole punch, paperclips, binder clips, papers, and the list went on. I honestly doubted how often I would use any of these things, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to have things on hand in case I had to write a letter. I'd dropped any hope of having Internet access before I came, so I was prepared for the disappointment that I was correct in my doubts.

When I came back out into the main room, I realized that the food was still on the counter. Rather than pretend like I'd remember to put them away before it went bad, I decided to shove all of it back into the fridge. Well, I guess "shove" isn't the best word to describe my standing in the open door of the fridge for half an hour organizing everything so that it was all perfectly placed where I may or may not be able to find things when I needed them. Satisfied, I closed the door and returned to work on my boxes.

Box after box was opened and contents organized. After the first stack I'd wondered why I hadn't labeled any of them. Some things I'd packed I was honestly surprised I still had. But by about five o'clock in the evening, I had everything that was obvious put away. A couple boxes still had some random things I didn't know where to put, but I figured I could just work on it later. But now, I wanted to water the turnips and maybe spend some time weeding the rest of the intimidating and ginormous field.

I turned to where the tools chest was and became confused. The lid was open. I couldn't remember ever opening it since yesterday afternoon, and, while counter intuitively, I could've sworn I'd just thrown the tools on the floor as I walked in from the day's work. I furrowed my brows in thought and realized that the movers must've replaced the tools into the chest to prevent the possibility of tripping as they brought in miscellaneous things. Satisfied with this explanation, I opened it and picked up the empty watering can. I had my hand on the door handle and was ready to go outside before I realized I was still in pajamas.

I grimaced and set the watering can by the door. Changing into my Converse low rises, black cargo pants, and a Count Chocula T-shirt, I returned to the front door. I picked the watering can up once again, and opened the door.

The first thing that ran through my mind when I stepped out of the house and turned right toward my pond was "GOLD." Everything was bathed in a strong golden light from the evening sun. And while it was pretty, it also hurt my eyes a bit. I finished my watering as fast as I could so I wouldn't have to let my retinas burn.

But while I was watering my rows of planted turnip seeds, I realized what the noise in the background behind the sound of twittering birds and soft wind through trees was. It was the barking and mewling of Leiden and Muffin. Confused, I sought out the animals, looking in the direction of their voices. I spotted them a short distance away, running about the single fruit tree. I finished watering the last row and ran toward them. While I was personally very surprised that Leiden had the energy to be running around with Muffin, I was more surprised to find them _outside_ in the first place. It was then that I realized that I'd had no interference from them while Dale and Eric went about moving furniture and bringing in boxes or when I was finding places for all the things I'd packed in the boxes. It dawned on me that they were outside _all day_, and must've gotten out when the door was open.

Worry for the animals the center point of my thoughts, I gathered Muffin in my free arm and whistled for Leiden to follow. I would probably let Leiden be an "outside dog" eventually, but she was in no shape now for it. While I could see her ribs, I wasn't going to let her out.

I got inside and set them down. I threw the once again empty watering can into the tools chest and set out to find the broom I'd discovered and used to clean the dust the day before and had put in the space I'd made for it between the bookcase and south wall. I used it to sweep up the dusty mess I'd made earlier and about which I'd forgotten. I didn't want the pets rolling around in it. I knew Muffin had a bad habit of doing that when she got into dirt. I swept the dust into a pan and flung it out the front door. Dust plus grass would not be a bad thing.

I made myself toast and eggs for my one meal of the day and cooked some more packaged chicken for the pets. While the three of us ate, I looked around at the house. There were still boxes cluttering the place, but with what was already unpacked, I could see myself living in this place comfortably. The familiar items were a sign for the vision.

And as surprising as it was, this place was really starting to feel like home.

**Disclaimer:** I do not in any way own Harvest Moon.

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the monotony of the moving. Don't worry, things speed up in the coming chapters.


	4. Neighborly Advice

**Author's Note: **I just wanted to say a thanks to my reviewers! Thanks for your input, I'm very appreciative! Any lurkers out there, please comment and drop me a review ;-)  
And now, the commencement of my third chapter.

_**Neighborly Advice**_

The next morning, I awoke at around ten A.M. Even in the city, I awoke at mid-morning, even if I went to bed early. It was just something I'd come to expect when I saw the digital clock in the mornings. Which is why it surprised me when I got up at unsightly hours like eight A.M. and even six, the past few mornings.

However, I realized I'd have to adjust that bad habit of mine if I was planning to run a farm. In the first phases of my glorious, grand, master plan, I doubted I would have to adjust my sleeping schedule too much. When I got a bunch of animals and had a whole field of the most assorted bits of crops, I would want as much time as possible. I was a sociable person by nature. I wouldn't be able to stay away from the town of Forget-Me-Not for too long without going crazy.

Of course, since my dad died, that sociable part of me was buried with my father's casket. But, with this new chance at starting a new life for myself, I wasn't about to screw it up by becoming a hermit.

I got up, stretched, and changed into some suitable clothes before walking into my kitchen to make some toast for breakfast. The apple jam in the fridge was delicious, even addicting, I found. I'd have to figure out how to make some myself, since I desperately wanted to grow some fruit trees on the farm. Which made me wonder, vaguely, how long it would take for any trees I grew to start producing fruit. I grimaced at the thought and turned away from my finished breakfast to the door.

But as I did so, I remembered the contents of the phone table were still piled on the table by the kitchen counter. I sifted through it and found a phone book. It was humorously small, but I knew I would need it. I flipped through it quickly, looking for businesses in the area. I was relieved to find that there was a large assortment, including tailoring, a market, and even a bar. Booze had become my best friend when my dad died. And it was the morning I'd waken with the mother of all hangovers that I realized how closely my life was drawn to my dad's. Without him, I was a completely different person. Coming to this farm was my escape for that realization.

I heard a scratching noise and winced. The sound was terrible, like nails on a chalkboard. Looking over my shoulder toward the source of the noise, I saw that it was the animals again. Leiden and Muffin were scratching at the front door and making whimpering noises to go outside. All previous intentions put aside, I stood up and let them out. As I did, I heard the deep, gravelly voice of Takakura call for me. He was stopped at the front gate.

I closed the door behind me and walked up to meet him. "Going to meet the locals?" he inquired.

I shifted uneasily on my feet. Why was it that his inquiry made me suddenly so uncomfortable? "Uh, yeah, I was hoping to traipse around and see who I could introduce myself to," I told him bluntly.

His brows furrowed in quiet thought and for a second I was worried he was going to tell me I couldn't. Which was ridiculous, of course. I didn't know this man, and he really didn't have any control over me. Chest swelled and ready for defiance, I opened my mouth to speak up, but he interrupted me. "Come inside for a second, Annika. I want to speak to you quickly before you head off." He took my elbow and led me to his little house. I didn't argue.

He let me sit in the sagging, lumpy sofa in which I'd seated the day before when I came to Takakura for help with my cut. He sat in the big, possibly equally lumpy chair that was opposite the little wooden table that separated the two pieces of furniture. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, folded his hands, and stared at something on the floor that I couldn't see. His hesitation was making me more wary by the second. Finally, he spoke. "Annika, there's something you should know about your mother."

I jumped slightly at the mention of my mother. She wasn't a part of my life, as far as I was concerned. And as much as my dad assured me that he still loved her dearly, I wouldn't ever excuse her for abandoning him. I couldn't care less about her abandoning me, since I'd never known her. I wasn't here to learn more about my deceased mother, and I was intent on letting Takakura know that.

"She came here years ago to learn about a family member she thought lived here at the time. Either she didn't find whoever it was and gave up her search, moving to live somewhere else, or she found the individual, got mixed up in something, and disappeared. Despite what some of the other townspeople think, I believe in the latter. Annika, your mother has been missing for seven years. And because of this, she was declared legally dead. This is also why you've been given what she outlined in her will. Whatever it was that she got caught up in is quite obviously dangerous. Be careful about what you say to the townspeople about your mother. It might just be best to leave her out of your conversations completely," he finished ominously.

I snorted. This guy seemed to me to be a real paranoid whack-job. Even if any of this conspiracy shit was true, I wouldn't have to worry about getting tangled in it. I was quite confident that I'd be able to make it _quite_ clear that I didn't want to hear a word about my mother. Still, I was curious about one thing.

"You said the first day I came here that I would have liked her, that she was really kind. How long was she here before she 'disappeared'?" I made quotations with my fingers with the word in mockery of his conspiracy theory. He paid no notice of it.

"She'd been here for about three years. She claimed she'd spent a long time tracking down the remnants of her family and her research brought here. Renae lived fairly prosperously here while she was, well, here. Enough to have those barns, chicken coops, silo, and lumber shed built on the outskirts of the field. I had to sell the animals after a while; they were admittedly hard to care for. The dog had run away. It was only recently when I recognized the wild dog that was terrorizing the townspeople's trash cans as Renae's puppy, Gelato. Don't ask why she named it that. I don't know." He shook his head in reminiscence of my mother. "I figured you could take care of her... You know, bring her back to health."

I nodded agreeably, "Yeah, I renamed her though. 'Leiden' means suffer in German, and it certainly looks as if she did. That's what I named her... It seemed fitting."

Takakura's face contorted in silent sadness, but he finally said, "Yes, it does." He got up and held his hands behind him. "Well, I don't want to keep you for too long. Just be careful what you say around the people here."

"It won't be a problem," I assured him, standing as well. I headed for the front door and turned when Takakura began to speak again.

"And a word of warning, Miss Annika," he began solemnly. I grimaced at the title but he paid no attention. "If you intend to meet the people in Mineral Town as well, you'll want to save it for another day. It's decent journey to get there, and meeting everybody would take at least a day." He smiled warmly and waved me off. "Have fun."

I raised a brow at him and rolled my eyes. I was certain it was going to be more conspiracy theories, considering the way he led into the statement. I shrugged and made my leave.

It was only until I got to a three-way fork in the rustic-colored cobblestones that made up the road system of the valley that I realized that I had no idea where I was going. I scratched the back of my head in confusion, wishing Takakura would've offered to introduce me, when I heard someone yell, "Hey, you!" I whirled around at the sound of the voice and saw a tall, slender woman with a blaze of fiery red hair cropped short in a decent-looking boy-cut. It certainly fit the way she was dressed—short jean shorts, yellow tank, and sporty blue sleeveless jacket. She was walking toward me with what looked like a permanent scowl on her admittedly pretty face. This woman looked like someone who didn't take shit from people, and whereas I admired that kind of personality, I knew better than to try and become buddies with her. I noted to keep a respectable distance from her.

"Who're you?" she asked bluntly. Straight to the point, I like it. I found myself smiling at her disagreeable mood.

"Uh, I'm the new er... resident... of the farm over there." I gestured to the entrance of the farm to the north, which was currently to my right. "Um, the name's Annika Taylor," I said and stuck a hand out for her to shake, which the woman ignored.

"New farmer, huh? You stutter a lot, you realize that?" she asked me, clearly amused at my introduction.

"I'm just a little nervous about meeting the people here," I told her truthfully. I'd felt confident coming out here, but now that I was finally getting down to socializing, I realized how much easier it would have been to become a hermit. But I knew I'd need to get to know the locals for business, at the very least. I hoped I'd get more confident as the day drew on.

The woman snorted. "You have nothing to be nervous about. The people are here are annoyingly cheery. They'll be thrilled to have new blood around here," she said, giving me a playful slap on the arm. I smiled meekly. "My name's Nami, by the way. I work at the Inner Inn." Nami pointed toward the rather large, two-story building that was a bit south and west of my farm's gated entrance.

I nodded and asked, "Any suggestions on where to start?" I hoped she would just take me on a tour or something, because while she assured me that the people were friendly, I didn't want to appear to be a total stranger. Things might go smoother if I had a local with me.

Nami considered this for a moment and then answered, "You could start with Vesta's farm, which is over the footbridge over there." She pointed behind me and I turned to look at what she was referring to. When I saw it, I turned back and nodded to show that I'd seen it. "Marlin, Celia, and Vesta live there. Then I would go and make introductions at the Inner Inn. After that, it should be in the busy hours of the Blue Bar, so you could go there. You'll cover most of the people in town by going to those three places. And, if it's not too late, you could go up to the villa where Romana, Lumina, and Sebastian live. You can get your eyeful of envy at the very beginning and get over it quicker." She shrugged and started to walk away.

"Thanks!" I shouted at her back as she walked south toward the Inner Inn. Nami waved at me without turning around.

So, I did as Nami said and headed east toward the footbridge. Upon arriving to it, however, I saw that it looked rickety with age, and possibly unable to keep me up. But I figured that if people crossed over this all of the time, it should be stable enough. I mean, I could've sworn I had to cross over a bridge like this when I arrived however many days ago it was. And although the unstable bridge creaked, it had kept me up. It was worth a shot.

I stepped onto it gingerly. When I didn't fall through, I took another step. The bridge creaked horribly, but I took another step. And finally, when I was close enough to the other side that I could jump the last few steps onto solid ground, I did exactly that. I landed on the balls of my feet, and my knees buckled so that I had to catch myself with my hands. Then I stood, brushed myself off, and then headed out to—Vesta's, was it?—farm.

After a short trek, I realized that Vesta's farm was the gigantic field plus two houses plus a greenhouse that I'd seen on my way over here. I hadn't given the place a terrific amount of scrutiny, but now that I did, I realized that the huge field was filled with rows and rows of little leaves that poked out of the ground. I couldn't imagine what they were growing, seeing as how I didn't know a thing about farming.

Out of the peripherals of my vision, I saw a young woman running toward me. I stared at the girl curiously until, suddenly, she ran into me and wrapped her arms around me in a huge hug. I was severely creeped out by the show of affection from this girl that I don't know. I stood rigidly until she let go and gave me a curious look, as if _I _had been the one behaving weirdly.

"You're the new farmer, right? Moved into Shadow Farm? I'm Celia. You are?"

I gave her an astonished look, mouth gaping open for a moment or two before finally answering, "Name's Annika Taylor." But it came out sounding choked, and to be quite frank, I didn't give myself any blame for acting the way I did. However, I guess if Celia was this eccentric, I could expect some nice responses from other people in town, and it made me surprisingly less worried.

Celia tilted her head to the side and peered at me carefully. "Hm. I was wondering why you looked so familiar. You look just like your mom, you know that?"

I grimaced. "Please don't speak of my mother."

"Why?"

"She is... ah, unspoken of... at least, to me. I never knew her, and she abandoned my father and me after I was born." I was personally surprised at myself for telling her this. It seemed she had the same effect on me as Takakura. I could say anything and not feel the obligation to explain myself.

Celia shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, um... I'm sorry I..." Then she brightened as two people came out of the first house. I gawked at them as well. One was a rather rotund and manly-looking female with wavy reddish-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Not that pulling it back helped with its unruly look. The other was a tall male following behind her. "Moping" would've been a better word to describe it, since the man had his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his head bowed low. He wasn't smiling and seemed concentrated on not paying attention to his surroundings if at all possible.

"Vesta, Marlin! Come meet the new blood!" Celia shouted at them. What was with these people and calling me "new blood"?

I assumed the portly woman was Vesta, since Marlin was hardly a woman's name. Vesta came bounding in our direction and I swear I could almost feel the ground shake. I almost, _almost_ acted as if bracing myself from earthquake impact, but I figured it would be rude. After all, first impressions were everything.

"Well, now, who is this?" Vesta's voice boomed.

"Annika Taylor, auntie. Renae's daughter," Celia said and then cast an apologetic glance at me for bringing up my mother again. I ignored her and concentrated on shaking Vesta's hand, trying hard not to let my hand get crushed by her powerful grip.

"Really? I was gonna say, you look a lot like her! Sure do miss her, I do. Taught her everything I know about farming and just took off." Her face took on a downcast appearance for a mere second before brightening again. "But now I can pass some reigns onto you, new blood! Yeah, you'll do just fine with me teaching you everything I know! And trust me on this, it's a lot," Vesta said. Celia rolled her eyes at the statement.

It was during the awkward silence that followed that the three of us noticed that Marlin had not come to greet. "Marlin!" Vesta bellowed. It took less than a second for him to appear from that first house. Obviously, Vesta had some kind of influence on him that demanded his obedience. He moped over to where I stood and looked up. He still wasn't smiling, but the first thing that ran through my head was "Elvis, Superman, and Grease impression." His hair was suave and slicked like the Grease guys and resembled Elvis greatly. But he had this single curl that came out of the slick that reminded me greatly of Superman, who always had a little lock of hair in his face. I winced a little. As far as first impressions went, his wasn't a good one. If I didn't know better, I'd have said he was wearing eyeliner, too.

"Marlin," he mumbled, and stuck out a hand for me to shake. His gaze didn't meet mine, but I couldn't care less. If he wasn't going to look at me straight, I wasn't going to bother with him in the future.

"Annika Taylor," I sang. I couldn't say why, but his emo fueled my cheery spirits. Perhaps this man was the explanation of Celia's eccentricity. Celia had to make up for the lack thereof in Marlin.

"So, would you be wanting to buy seeds?" Vesta cackled. Yes, that's right. _Cackled_.

But this pulled at my interest. Vesta was telling me she could sell me seeds, which I definitely needed. I downright refused to live off turnips.

"Most certainly, Vesta. What seeds do you have?"

Vesta seemed pleased that I was interested in buying seeds from her, so she made a gentlemanly gesture to the second house at the edge of the smaller field. We walked the short distance in silence and stepped inside of what appeared to be a makeshift store. There were boxes stacked up in piles everywhere. What was in those boxes, I didn't care to find out.

"I have seeds of fruits and veggies that grow best in spring. Every season, I'll come out with seeds that grow best for that particular season. Except winter. You can't grow anything in winter," she said matter-of-factly and stepped behind the "counter" that was really a table. I nodded in understanding and inquired again what seeds she had. "Well let's see here..." She turned around and picked up a box behind her and set it on the table. After digging around it a little, she looked up at me and said, "I've got turnips, potatoes, cucumbers, strawberries, and cabbage. Oh, and fruit tree seeds, but those take a long time to mature. I don't know if—"

"I do want some. Thanks. Um, how many seeds are in each packet?"

Vesta smiled hugely and said, "Ten each. Karen at the supermarket only sells nine in each of hers, and I sell mine for the same price. It always drove me nuts that she only sold nine in each packet, so I just _had_ to sell my own with ten." Okay, so that was one thing I learned about Vesta: she was oddly obsessive-compulsive with the number ten.

I nodded and made some mental calculations about the size of my field—or rather, how much space was left—and the room the turnips I already had growing took up and figured that I could get a enough potatoes to last me the season, a set of strawberry seeds, and some cabbage seeds. I knew I would put potatoes to a lot of use. However, while I wouldn't necessarily eat cucumbers, I could certainly sell my harvest. I decided to get some cucumber seeds as well.

"Vesta, how long do these things take to grow?"

And, after a long discussion about when and where to plant each kind of crop, how long each takes to grow, how often they have harvests, how often to water them, what kind of soil is needed, and the whole bit, she finally stopped gibbering. My mind, to say the least, was awhirl with the information she'd given me. She cackled at my overwhelmed expression. "Don't worry new blood, you'll get used to it after a year, once you've had all the different types of crops. So, how many of each do you want?"

"Um, enough potato seeds to keep two rows growing until the end of summer, one set of cucumbers, one set of strawberries, and cabbage seeds—half the number of potatoes." Vesta dug into her box and pulled out the seeds I'd requested. When asked about fruit trees, I asked for one of each kind she had, which were grapefruit, lemon, apple, orange, peach, and banana. "That all?" Upon nodding, she whipped out a hand calculator and began punching numbers. She turned the calculator to me to see the resulting price. I gaped. Farming was fucking expensive.

Again with the cackling, Vesta said, "Don't worry, it pays for itself. It's the fruit trees that take a while to grow. But, they're faster growing here than anywhere else, you wanna know why?" Intrigued, I nodded for her to continue. "The soil here is more fertile than anywhere else. No one knows why, but it's why I came here to do my farming. And God knows I've been profitable."

Heartened by this news, I paid Vesta for the seeds and asked for something to carry the sachet bags in. She handed me a crudely-made canvas bag. On my way out, she shouted at my back, "Make sure you bring that back sometime, okay? It's our only one." I waved in acquiescence and made my leave.

The sun was setting by the time I'd reached the footbridge. Stepping carefully across it, I made my way hurriedly to the Inner Inn. I wondered upon entering why it was called the "Inner Inn," but was interrupted in my thoughts as a squat woman behind the front desk called out to me. "Hello! Will you be wanting a room?" She smiled politely and waited for my answer.

"No, I have my own place, actually. I live on Shadow Farm now. My name's Annika Taylor; I'm the new farmer." I held my hand out over the front desk for the plump woman shake it. Whereas Vesta looked like she was partly a man by her size, this woman was comparatively kindly-looking. She wasn't terribly old, but she was obviously down the road a bit. This woman was short, and reasonably over-weight; in other words, not unhealthily obese. I would have said her nationality was Native-American, because of her natural tan and deep black hair, but I couldn't be sure. I wasn't good with races and learned the hard way that if I didn't know, I shouldn't guess.

"Oh! Dearie, I'm Ruby. I run the Inner Inn with Nami and my son Rock. Well, with Nami, anyways," Ruby said hesitantly. When I cocked my head in a questioning motion, she sighed and said, "Rock doesn't have a very good—" she coughed, "—work ethic. He's downright lazy." And as she said this, the person in question was coming down the stairs from the second story. How I knew was due to the way the young man was dressed. He looked like a pimp, to say the least. Someone who partied long nights and shirked work at all costs. I knew the look; one of my old friends had it.

"Dammit mom, I told you I'm not into the whole idea of work. There's better things I could do with my life," the man said, tossing his blonde hair when he turned his head to pout. I instantly had a strong dislike for him. Not only because he was lazy—I mean, who isn't sometimes?—but because of _where_ he was being lazy. How could you live in the rustic countryside and _not_ work to make life as infinitely amazing as possible? The connections just weren't made in my mind.

Rock then noticed me standing there staring at him with slightly narrowed eyes and he grinned slyly. "Why, hello there. Who's this?"

"Rock, this is Annika, Renae's daughter. She now lives on Shadow Farm."

"It's nice to see a new face around here," Rock said and held out his hand in a fist. I stared at it blankly, trying to figure out why his fist was held out like that, and he gave up. I later realized that he was trying to do the fist-pound thing. Stupid boy.

"I'm going to go introduce myself to people at the Blue Bar, Ruby. Thanks for talking with me," I said, inching toward the door.

"Oh, it was nothing, dearie. You come by anytime, and I'll cook for you."

"Sounds great. Thanks." And I exited the Inner Inn.

As it turned out, the Blue Bar wasn't far from the Inner Inn, and I certainly thought it would be. The building looked quite big—about the size of a house. I wondered amusedly if it was indeed a house that was turned into a bar when the owner bought it. As I approached the door, I heard laughing, chattering, and glass clinking on tables—normal bar sounds. But when I stepped inside, I was admittedly surprised. It was smaller than it looked from the outside. My plural of table was an incorrect assumption; there was only one table—the typical long kind with bar stools. Like mine, only longer still. This one seated at least ten people.

The space behind the bar table was occupied by shelves of alcoholic beverages and taps as well as a man and woman. The latter of the two was occupied with the three people she was talking to—a tall, rascally-looking man with a large hat and who smelled faintly of earth, a man who looked like he was well on in years if his salt-and-pepper hair was anything to go by, and Marlin.

This woman looked like the female version of Rock—she would be one for parties, I could guess. She had long blonde hair with more ringlets than I've ever seen on anyone, ever. Her clothing was comprised with a short-sleeve, light-blue sweater, a red lacey dress, and black stiletto heels. She looked cheerful enough.

The man, however, looked up as soon as I opened the door. He greeted me with a cheerful hello before turning to fill a glass from a tap. He himself had the appearance of a country-guy. Dressed in jeans, boots, and a cowboy shirt, the guy had dark brown hair that was pulled into a ponytail, and a five-o'clock shadow, and a bushy mustache that was a shade lighter brown. I sat down in front of him in an empty seat between the hippie-looking man and a guy who looked like he could be up for a beer any minute of the day—he looked _that_ worn-down. I didn't care to introduce myself to the man, who scared me just a little since I couldn't really see his eyes. He had really messy hair all over his face; he needed a haircut _badly_.

The bartender turned to me and said, "I haven't seen you around here before. You stopping on your way through or are you staying awhile?"

"I'm Annika Taylor, I just moved into the Shadow Farm. So, I _hope_ I'll be staying as long as I can," I told him, smiling.

"Well, that's good to hear. I'm Griffin; I own the Blue Bar. Drop in anytime after five for a drink—we're open pretty late. Can I get you anything now?"

I considered it briefly and nodded, "Gotta vodka you recommend?"

Griffin chuckled, "Coming on strong already? Well, we've got Spring Breeze and Summer Glow. They sound tame, but they're not really. It's kind of false-advertising, but no one cares enough to complain."

"I'll try the Spring Breeze. Small glass, though, please."

He took a bottle with a spout from the shelf to the left and poured it in a glass, about half-way. I smiled gratefully and took it in my hands, sniffing it sensually. Griffin laughed again.

"So, who've you met so far?"

"Well, I ran into Nami on my way out. She directed me to Vesta's farm, where I met Celia, Marlin, and Vesta. After that, I headed to the Inner Inn. I spent a little time there talking to Ruby and Rock, but left pretty quickly. Then I came here."

"Shoot, you still have a lot of people to talk to yet."

I stomach dropped and I stopped the progress of my glass to my lips. I held it just above my chin for a second and then set it down again. "W-what? How many more?"

"Well, let's see here... You still have Wally's and Grant's families, the trio up at the villa, the twins, Daryll, Cody, Flora and Carter, and Dr. Hardy."

"Oh! I've met Dr. Hardy already!"

Griffin looked at me curiously and I shrank in my seat. I didn't really want to explain that the first time I handled farming tools I'd gotten myself cut, but I had already dug myself a hole and jumped in. I might as well finish it up.

"I, er... got myself cut by my sickle." I lifted my still-bandaged hand.

Griffin nodded and didn't pursue the subject further, seeming to know I really didn't want to. I took a sip of the vodka and smiled at the tang it produced in my mouth. It was good, really good. If I wasn't careful, I could easily become the town drunk.

"You don't necessarily have to jump right in and talk to Daryll, the twins, or Cody. They all live in the southern part of the valley, closer to the beach. The people who live in this first main area are the people you should focus on." And, without warning, he whistled and got the other four's attention. "Guys, this is Annika, the new blood. She's taking over the farm to the north. Annika," he gestured from me to the people who were now staring at me, "this here's Muffy"—the blonde bartender—"Gustafa"—the hippie—"and I guess you already met Marlin." Marlin was still staring at his glass looking depressed. I swear I was going to slap the emo out of him someday. The other three's voices were lost in the sudden tumult of greetings and welcomes. Then they abruptly stopped and turned back to their other conversations. "You'll get to know them more over time," Griffin assured me.

I downed the vodka and Griffin refilled it at my request. We talked some more about the townspeople and whatnot. I was really glad I had the chance to talk to Griffin, since as a bartender, he would likely know a lot about the people around here. I learned a little about him when we were talking as well.

It was late by the time I bothered to check my wristwatch. Grimacing about the farm work I was in for tomorrow morning, I paid for my drinks. I stood to leave, but before I could gather my bag of seeds and make my leave, Griffin halted me.

His brows were furrowed in concern as he said, "Wait—you said your name's Taylor, right?" I could only assume he meant my last name, since I knew he knew my first name; I nodded. "Hmm... It might be best that you not spend a whole lot of time with Romana. Just take my word for it. I can't tell you why." Then he smiled and said good night as I left.

I couldn't imagine why he would say such a thing, but seeing as he was so knowledgeable about the people, I really had no choice but to heed his warning.

To hell with that. I was going to figure out why.

**Disclaimer:** I don't claim to own Harvest Moon.


	5. Misled

**Author's Note:** Here's the next chapter, enjoy!  
Thanks to all who've read, reviewed, and saved this story as a favorite!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harvest Moon.

_**Misled**_

The following day found me staring out into my pretty-much empty field and at a loss for where to begin. I had a huge bag of assorted seeds that I wanted to plant, but doubted my ability to get the ground tilled for _all _of it.

So, with the bag slung on my shoulder and my hoe and watering can in each hand, I set out to work.

By mid-afternoon, I'd gotten about half of the seeds I wanted out there planted. However, none of the work I had finished was watered, so I knew I had more to do once the stuff was planted.

I decided to take a break and call the tailor I'd seen listed in the phone book. Apparently, the correct term was "seamstress" since the flustered woman at the other end of the line became terribly offended when I called her a tailor. How was I supposed to know? Her business was called "May's Tailoring." I didn't have any knowledge of the business of tailoring. I mean, actors encase all men and women who act, right? "Tailor" was, I supposed, not a gender-neutral term.

"Right, so you wanted to commission me?" May asked me.

"Well, yeah, I suppose. I need some clothes for this farm work I've picked up," I told her honestly.

"Oh don't worry, hun, I can sew what you need. I'll make a house call... is this Friday ok with you?"

I didn't know why she needed to make a house call, so I inquired this of her. "Hun, I have to get your measurements," she said tersely, as if that should have been obvious. But hey, when you've shopped from department stores your whole life, how would you know any better?

"Um, yeah. Friday is okay with me." I took the calendar I'd pinned over my bed-side table down and circled the date, Spring 13th, writing the plans in the square dedicated to it. That was just two days from now.

"Ok, honey, what's your address?" I told it to her. "I'll see you then. Good bye," she said, and promptly hung up.

Relieved that that part of my plans was out of the way, I returned to my work. Takakura noticed my exiting my house and came out of his own to talk to me. "Talk while I work. Watch the tilled ground," I told him without stopping.

We talked about the people in the valley—who I'd met and who I'd yet to meet. He didn't look like it, but he was about as knowledgeable about the townspeople as Griffin was. I guess that shouldn't have surprised me so much, since it's not like there's a hundred residents here. But where Griffin only spoke of the Forget-Me-Not Valley residents, Takakura was able to fill me in about some of the people who lived in the neighboring Mineral Town. However, since I didn't know any of the people he talked so fondly about, his information didn't do me much good.

When I'd told him about what Griffin said about Romana, I learned that was a _big_ mistake. The paranoia I'd gotten a taste of yesterday kicked in and somehow diffused into me. In other words, he was able to convince me to reject my plans of sticking my nose in Romana's business and scare me half to death while doing it. Don't ask me how; it didn't make much sense to me either.

Our talking slowed my farm work down, so it was well into the night when I finally got everything planted and watered. I embraced the night, since the moon didn't pound heat into my aching and perspiring body. Quite the contrary, the night offered some of the coolness of Spring and a slight breeze to make the remainders of my work easier.

Muffin and Leiden had fallen asleep together in the doghouse—I'd let them out to see if they could hunt a little for themselves. Now, I knew it was a bad idea. Muffin wasn't ever outdoors more than a half hour at a time in the city, and Leiden was hardly able to hunt for _both_ of them, let alone herself. Sighing, I stopped at my front door and whistled for them. They awoke instantly, which told me that neither of them was very deeply asleep. I held the door open for them and followed them inside. After making a quick meal for the three of us, I went to sleep. And oh, what a fretful night it was.

The same nightmare assaulted my nighttime vision, but with more distinctions. Before, I'd witnessed the murder of the lovely black-haired woman with icy blue eyes, but now, I saw someone save her. But it was his demise instead. The woman escaped. And where I'd seen my own bloodied corpse, I could now make out where I was and what killed me. My throat had been slit, and I was lying in a pool of my blood in a field with rippling grass. I was high up in elevation, because I could see the dots that were people in the grounds below. I wasn't to be found...

I woke again in a cold sweat, wanting to cry about the disturbing images but not finding the emotion for it. The work for that day was done in a zombie-like state; everything I was doing barely registered in my mind. I think I might have even stood in the middle of the field for a long time without doing anything. For the most part, this was due to the fact that my mind was so preoccupied with the nightmare I'd experienced for a second time now. None of it made sense to me. Who were these strangers I'd seen? Why did I see myself dead? The fact that I'd seen my lifeless corpse in two similar nightmares was what probably scared me the most, since I _knew_ me. I wasn't one to delight in bloody violence of any sort, so it surprised me that these images would appear in my dreams at all. But, dreams aren't always necessarily something predetermined; science has yet to explain them thoroughly. When I finally shrugged the thoughts away, I was done with my farm work, and it was yet again late. I was dying for some alcohol.

I made my way to the Blue Bar and found that besides some drunk-looking old guys who were hitting on Muffy, I was the only other patron. Griffin smiled at me as I came inside. "Hardest tequila you got," I grunted as I sat. Griffin looked at me with a concerned expression on his face for a moment then turned to get me what I asked for. Lifting the glass to my lips and taking a sip, I positively melted when the biting liquid slid down my throat.

"So, how's the farm work going?" Griffin asked conversationally.

I shrugged. "I got everything planted. It's just a pain-in-the-ass to maintain."

Griffin smiled as if he knew exactly what I meant. But then that worried/concerned look returned to his face. "You don't look so good, Annika. You okay?" he asked, as one of the old guys burst out in a loud chortle.

"Could be better..." I said vaguely and sighed, staring down at my almost-empty glass. I'd practically downed it after taking that first sip.

"Would it help to talk about it?" Griffin asked. The way he said it made me feel like I could tell him in confidence. I decided I would, but just be a little evasive on details.

"I've been plagued by nightmares, Griffin." I drank the last bit of tequila from the bottom of the glass and had Griffin refill it. "Thanks. Anyway, two nights now, since I've been here, my sleep has been haunted with the worst machinations of my subconscious mind. In other words, scaring the shit out of me with grotesque images of people's deaths."

Griffin took a while to let all of this sink in, and when he did, said, "Well, gee. I don't know what to say about that, Annika, but I'm sorry to hear it."

I smiled wanly at Griffin. "You're a good guy, Griffin. I just wish I knew what any of it meant. I'm not usually one for believing conspiracies and supposedly paranormal shit that happens, but I just don't think it's a coincidence that I'm having these dreams more than once. But maybe I'm overreacting. It only happened twice..." I trailed off, only vaguely realizing how much I was contradicting myself. I downed the last of my tequila and handed it to Griffin. No more alcohol for tonight.

"Just get some sleep. If it happens again, I'm always here with a little comfort," he said, patting the half-empty tequila bottle. I laughed and told him I'd take him up on it. Paying for my drinking binge, I left.

On my way back, I bumped into someone in the road leading up to my house. Whereas I was heading back home, this person had been heading west. It was hard to make out the person's features in the dark of the night—as clear as the sky was, the moon didn't offer very much light, and the valley was nearly void of street lamps. But I noticed the person had a very soft, girlish voice and new they must be a woman.

"Sorry, I was just—" I began, and the woman cut me off.

"It's quite alright, I was just on my way home." Then she peered at me closely, and what I thought was realization lit her face. "You're the new blood, aren't you?" Why the hell was I being called that? "My name's Lumina." And she offered me a delicate hand to shake.

"Annika Taylor," I said, trying not to make it sound like a grunt. I was getting tired and really didn't want to be here right now.

"Taylor, huh?" she said interestedly. "The name isn't a coincidence, I assume? You're Renae's daughter?"

My grouchy feeling intensified. "Yeah, but I don't like to talk about my mother. She wasn't really _there_ for me, if you know what I mean." But in fact, I wasn't all too sure what the hell I was talking about. I mean, I did, but the wording sounded wrong when I said it out loud.

"Actually, I do. Neither of my parents was there to raise me. I've been brought up by my grandmother my whole life," Lumina said sadly. Then her face lit up again. "Hey, how about you come over to my place and we can get to know each other a little? If you're gonna be living here in Forget-Me-Not, no doubt we'll see a lot of each other."

I hedged around going to her place by saying I was already tired and almost ready to drop in a dead sleep right there in the road. And, as much as I wished that was over-exaggerating a little, I knew it was true. Tequila had that effect on me.

"Oh, ok. Well, how about tomorrow evening? You can come over for some dinner."

"Yeah, that sounds great. Um, where can I find you and when?"

"I live at the villa over there," she said, gesturing in the direction she'd been heading. "Meet me at five-thirty?"

I nodded. "Alright."

We parted and when I arrived at my house, I didn't even change out of my clothes. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

In the morning, I felt really gross. My mouth was sour from not having brushed my teeth, and _all_ of me felt just plain dirty from the farm work. I set off straightaway to fix all of this.

When I emerged from the shower, I picked up my wristwatch from the bathroom counter to check the time. It was a little after ten in the morning, and it reminded me that I hadn't a clue when this tailor—erm, _seamstress_—was coming.

As if on cue, I heard a knock on the door. Groaning at the awful timing, I swept my long hair into a towel and wrapped a larger one around me sarong-style. I stepped out of the bathroom and yelled at the door, "Be right there!" as loudly as I could. And, once I'd dressed and replaced the towels on the rack in the bathroom to dry, I opened the door.

The first thing I noticed about the woman standing at the door was the color of her hair. It was icy-blonde, but the bottom-half was hot pink. Now, I'd seen plenty of hair color in my day, but I hadn't seen hot pink. Neither had I seen it in dual colors before. I was almost certain she dyed it to be that way and maybe it was just for the fashion-designer look. Nevertheless, it was a strange sight to behold this lovely Friday morning.

May noticed that I was gawking at her hair and said, "Yes, I know my hair is lovely and how you wish you sported a style even half-way beautiful as mine, but can I come in? I'd like to get started." I snapped out of my embarrassing gawking and stood to the side to let her in. Closing the door behind her, I turned to meet her. She was putting her supplies of sorts on the coffee table.

I stood there awkwardly as she eyed me with a curious gaze. "Um, so what am I supposed to do, exactly?"

"What did you want me to sew for you?"

"Oh, I uh..." I trailed off, berating myself for not figuring out what I wanted before-hand. I shrugged and made a decision out of thin air. "I'd like five pairs of jeans, two polo shirts, two V-neck short-sleeved shirts, and a sleeveless tank with three-inch straps."

May pulled out a notepad from her bag and wrote everything I rattled off down, smiling hugely. "Okay, I'll just need to take your measurements and then I can ask you specifics." She then grabbed the tape measure she had around her neck and held it up. I followed all her directions as she took measurements of various areas of my body, feeling slightly foolish as I did. I wasn't sure why.

"Now, what kind of style do you want your jeans to be?"

I blinked. There were different styles? I admitted to myself how I wouldn't know and grimaced. "Um... What styles _are_ there?"

May sighed and rattled off the different styles she could sew. And there were a _lot_. "...boot-cut, skinny, and straight-cut."

I hated to ask, but... "What do those different styles _look_ like?"

Now I could tell May was getting irritated with me. "Look, why don't I give you a freaking catalog and then you can decide? Jeez!" She threw a catalog at me and I caught it awkwardly. I'd been expecting her to _hand_ it to me, rather than see how hard she could toss it in my face. "Now, how about these shirts? Material? Color? Patterns?"

I hesitated for too long, because May just blew a frustrated sigh and said, "Just look at the catalog, figure out what you want and give me a ring later, m'kay?" Then she grabbed her things and made a beeline out the door.

I ran out to ask her a final question, which I had to shout at her back, "Any chance I could purchase shoes from you?"

May paused and turned to call out her answer. "The stuff I can get my hands on is all in the catalog, dearie." Then left without another word.

Sighing, I sat down on my sofa and rifled through the catalog. I didn't really take any serious looks at it the first time through. My wristwatch told me that May had taken up only half an hour of the day. I was silently hoping I would have an excuse to skip my farm chores for today and just kind of goof off, but my hopes were crushed.

I spent an hour figuring out my list of things I wanted and called May to give it to her. She was still a little stiff with me. But when she gave me the total amount it would cost me, she sounded gleeful, like she was in for a lot of moolah. I was a little irritated with that tone of voice, but I thanked her and hung up.

After that, I grudgingly set out to do the tedious watering of my plants. At five o'clock, I decided I wanted to take a shower and change clothes before heading off to Lumina's for what I hoped was a decent supper.

When I'd finished "dolling-up," and was heading out the front gate, I realized how stupid I was to only leave ten minutes for the walk up to the villa. I didn't know the area, and therefore didn't have an inkling of how long it would take to get there. But much to my relief, it wasn't a long walk at all. I was a minute or two early, in fact.

Lumina greeted me eagerly as I stepped up to her front doors. I didn't notice right away, however. I was still gaping, unashamedly open-mouthed, at the entire property. Her house was a freaking mansion, and that's no understatement. The whole courtyard was cobbled with neat marble bricks, which cast a hell of a rich look on the place without the huge house helping. In the center of the gigantic courtyard was a tall fountain that spewed water in high arcs. It was a traditional-looking type, not one with a statue. The basin that caught the water was detailed in shiny pearl mosaic pieces, so that when any form of light shone on it, it positively glittered. I felt a kind of resentment toward this girl's wealth straightaway, but also felt ashamed that I'd be so jealous.

Stepping _inside_ the mansion-villa was no kinder in the case of that resentment. It was too elegant for words. I felt so _misplaced_, if you catch my drift. Made me feel so damned uneasy. A feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that I'd be making a visit to the Blue Bar just to get over how rich I _wasn't_.

Lumina led me into a back room, where there was a gorgeous white grand piano, large mahogany coffee table, fluffy white chairs and a sofa, as well as other miscellaneous living room items to adorn it. We sat at the table and talked for a mere five minutes, at most, before a butler came in with a large platter in each hand. I narrowed my eyes at the butler, that resentment welling up again, and he looked a little awkward when he noticed my glaring. I realized I was being extremely rude and softened my expression before holding a hand out to introduce myself. "Um, hi. I'm Annika Taylor, the new farmer at Shadow Farm...?" I ended the statement like a question because the situation felt a lot more awkward than I'd originally assessed.

The butler nodded. "Sebastian," he said in a feeble voice that matched his appearance perfectly. He reminded me of Alfred in the Batman TV shows, comics, and movies. His white hair was combed tidily to make his tuxedoed appearance a little more complete. His eyes squinted as if he was losing his sight, but it didn't look like he was putting effort into it. It looked like a natural feature of his face, as was his smile. The smile didn't look put on at all. After making the brief introduction, he left the room.

"You have a _butler_? Exactly how rich _are _you?" I said when I turned to face Lumina. But then I thought better of my statement and said, "Sorry, that was rude. I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Lumina giggled as she reached for a sandwich on one of the platters and took a bite. "I don't mind the question. Actually, it's all my grandma-ma, Romana's, money. She bought this house a while ago, when she was in her thirties, or something. Her daughter, my mother, left the second she was legally able to look after herself." She sighed and a downcast expression claimed her face. "My mom married and had me, but my parents just up and left me. The government sought out my grandma to look after me, since she's my closest living relative or something like that. I've lived here in this tiny town my entire life."

"Do you ever wish you could get out and travel, or live in the big cities if you'd had the chance?"

Lumina thought about it for moment or two before answering. "Actually, I'm really happy here. It's nice to live in such a closely-knit town such as this."

I felt relief whoosh through me. It surprised me how much I'd been hoping she would have an answer like that. I guess I was hoping to find some confirmation in starting a life here. If someone has lived here their whole life and doesn't want to high-tail it out when they get the chance, I had some hope.

"Of course, I wouldn't be opposed to make a travel once or twice in my life, I mean, who doesn't want to?" Lumina added. "I guess I just have too much of my life here that I wouldn't want to give up in order to leave permanently."

I nodded. "You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that," I told her honestly, which earned me a bright smile from Lumina.

Several other bonding conversations ensued while we chowed down on our simple dinner of sandwiches and various other snack-type things. Before we knew it, the grandfather clock in the entryway was chiming eleven o'clock. We exchanged surprised glances when we realized how late it was. Lumina giggled, "Well, seems like time _does_ fly when you're having fun!" I smiled appreciatively at this statement. I _did_ have fun getting to know Lumina. She was a little high-class as far as behavior went, but she had an easy-going personality. I could certainly see myself becoming friends with her.

"I should get back home, but we should do something like this again sometime," I said, making sure I didn't sound like I was inviting myself over to her place again.

"Yes, come over anytime!" Lumina gushed, and she walked with me toward the front door. She even went as far as walking me to the front gates, where the circle of light from the lamps ended. We were just over a yard away when someone stepped out of the darkness beyond the circle of light and stood at the extreme edge.

"Evening, ladies. It's just my good luck to run into _two_ beautiful women while I 'visit'," the person said. I couldn't quite distinguish what the owner of the voice looked like, since there wasn't enough light cast on them. However, the voice sounded distinctly feminine to me. And whereas the person's comments didn't really make sense with my final judgment, I decided the speaker must be a woman.

I elbowed Lumina and, keeping my eyes on the speaker, I asked, "Hey, who's the lady?"

"Excuse me?" the woman—er, _man_—stepped further into the light. Now that I could see, the figure of the person was clearly male. I was hard-pressed to tell whether he was a cross-dresser or not. He had shoulder-length silver hair and wore a leopard-print suit jacket/maroon pants combo that was what confused me so much. That, and the jewelry he donned—bangles and dog tags. "Did you just call me a _lady_?"

"Hm, sorry mister, I couldn't tell with the light and stuff." I gestured around me vaguely, not really sure why I was making hand gestures in the first place.

"Wait, you're _Skye_, that Phantom thief!" Lumina said suddenly. She turned to me with wide eyes that were conveying two distinct emotions: fear and anger. "We got a note from him this morning. Rat bastard, he's come to steal from us!" Lumina was clearly letting anger win out over fear. She turned back to the man in question, her expression that of malice. "You leave my house alone!"

"Now, now, no reason to let anger take away from your beauty, fair maiden." I bet he thought he was such a smooth talker. _I_ wanted to puke.

Lumina thought different. The reddening her face was having was definitely a blush, not the previous rage she'd had. I gazed at her, astonishment controlling the gaping of my mouth. But then I got over it and cast an irritated look to this _Skye_ person. "So, wait, you're here to steal? Fat chance. Like hell we'd stand by and just _let_ you take shit."

Skye seemed surprised for a reason that was unknown to me. "And you think I'd come all this way and leave with nothing?" All seductiveness in his feminine voice was gone. Though I had to admit, his voice didn't sound so feminine to me anymore.

We had a staring match for what seemed like an hour, glaring at each other through narrowed eyes. Lumina looked ready to swoon, which I noticed right before she fell in a faint. I caught her, but I wasn't strong enough to hold her up.

I slapped her face a little to get her to wake up and surprisingly, it worked. She opened her eyes blearily and stood suddenly, knocking me over. "Sorry..." she said softly, holding a hand out to help me up. I looked over to where Skye was, but he'd left. Where? I didn't care to know. Just as long as he wasn't thieving, which I guess was hopeful thinking. I hated people who thought they were above the law enough to commit crimes like that. Bastards, all of them.

Unfortunately, I knew that wouldn't be the last time I heard from Skye. But I was gonna give him a piece of my mind about this thieving business when that time came.


	6. Love Is in the Air

Love Is in the Air

_**Love Is in the Air**_

After that lovely encounter with the 'Phantom thief,' I'd felt in the mood for some 'liquid comfort.' More specifically, that tequila with my name on it.

I headed toward the Blue Bar, hands shoved into my dress pants' pockets and shoulders hunching. When I stepped inside, I was surprised to be the only patron in the bar. Muffy was idly washing glasses while Griffin did the same to the countertop. Griffin lifted his head up when he heard the door open. "Careful walking in," he told me.

"Why?" I asked, but the question was answered by a crunch of glass under my foot when I took another step forward. "What happened here?"

"Oh, nothing," Griffin said nonchalantly.

Muffy snorted. "Kassey and Patrick got into a bit of a drunken brawl. One threw a glass at the other as they tried to leave. Shattered all over the floor. Didn't give it a second thought, they." She obviously looked irritated.

"And how long ago was this?" I asked them.

"About an hour ago," Griffin told me. When I raised an eyebrow at him, he chuckled. "No one else was here, and neither of us was really in the mood to clean up after a couple of drunken knuckleheads. You understand."

And, surprisingly, I did. I'd honestly be too pissed off to do anything about it. "Want some help cleaning it up?"  
"Sure, if you don't mind," Muffy said cheerily. She deftly tossed a dustpan and hand-broom to me, and I did the clean-up. When I was done, I stepped forward and handed the dustpan back to Muffy, who dumped the shards of glass into a wastebasket before stowing the clean-up equipment under the counter somewhere.

I smiled cheekily at Griffin. "Same stuff as yesterday, good buddy."

Griffin furrowed his brows in a concerned fashion and then turned to fix me a glass. I toasted the air with the glass before taking a good swallow.

"So, any recurrence of the nightmare?"

"No, but thanks for the concern. Any more of it, and this tequila will be my best friend here in the valley."

Griffin laughed. "I'll make sure to get more, then." Then his face got more serious. "So, if it wasn't the nightmare, what's wrong? You had a kind of... well, disgusted and irritated look on your face as you came in."

I debated about telling him about the so-called phantom thief. Did the other residents know about him? Maybe it would help to spread a warning around... "You ever heard of the 'Phantom Thief'?" I asked him.

Griffin cocked his head to each side as if it did ring a bell, and he was trying to remember where he heard it. "Well, yeah. He stole something from Patrick and Kassey just last week. Why? Did he leave you a note?"

"No, no. He left Lumina a note up at the villa. We ran into him as Lumina was escorting me out of her house."

"He take anything?"

"No, not that I'm aware."

"So what was with the irritated expression?"

"It just annoys hell out of me that he thinks he can just send a note, waltz right in, and take whatever the hell he pleases. Bastard."

"Well, this bit of news _does_ change things. If he's hit twice, we'll next at some point, I'm sure." Muffy squealed at this. Griffin and I stared at her for a moment or two and she blushed.

"Sorry," she said quietly. Then Griffin and I continued our conversation.

"If he does send a note, let me know, and I'll give him a piece of my mind. Run him outta town, if I can," I told him.

"You sure you'd be able to really do anything about it?" Griffin said with uncertainty.

"Well, why not? He didn't look all that tough to me. I think he'd run if we all stood up against him." I shrugged, and as I finished the statement, someone else came into the bar. I turned to look at the newcomer and saw a huge, well-built, and _slightly_ tubby man. His mustache, beard, and eyebrows were so bushy and unruly, you could hardly see his face. Somehow, I was able to see him smile as he regarded Muffy and Griffin and sat down.

"Well hello, Gotz. What'cha doing here on a Friday? You usually come here on your Saturdays off," Griffin greeted him.

"I gotta house ta build. The plans are all made, but I have a deadline to make. I'm gonna have ta work through my day-off to meet it. Scotch and soda please," the man, Gotz, told Griffin. Then he turned to me. "I haven't seen you around here before, you visiting?" he asked.

"I'm Annika, I just moved into the farm just north. I'ma taking over the farming." I don't know why I felt the need to add that last bit; it was probably obvious.

"Gotz," he said, holding out a hand for me to shake. "I'm the handy-man around here. I live in Mineral Town, but I extend my business here too. You want it, I Gotz it." He laughed heartily at his slogan. "Clever, eh?"

I smiled. "Yes'm. It certainly is." I doubt he could hear the sarcasm in my voice. I was basically just humoring him.

"Hey, if you get the time this week, I could use extra materials while I'm scrambling to get this thing done. Material stone and lumber. If you can get some, I'll pay you for them."

My ears perked at the opportunity to earn some money. I knew my funds would run out eventually. "How much?"

"Hmm, say 10.000 G for every one hundred material stones and 5.000 G for every one hundred lumber?"

"Sure, why the hell not? What happens if I don't have one hundred of one thing? Like if I had ninety-seven?"

"I'd hope you go out and find three more pieces to make it one hundred! Mind you, I won't take count a piece of material stone if it's real tiny."

I sighed and then asked this last question, "Got any idea where I could start?"

"Hell yes, there's quite a bit of both in the clearings by Turtle Pond, the dig site, and south of Vesta's farm. I just don't have a whole lot of time to go out and collect it all."

"When do you have to have this house done?" Okay, so I lied about the last question bit.

"They're having me build a two-story house in a week. Usually, I could build things real fast. But like I said, I don't got a lot of materials to work with. And the stuff I build is usually smaller."

"Who's 'they'?"

"New residents that're moving in from the city. Twins, I guess. One's a hairstylist by the name of Cheyenne, the other's a cop named Carlisle. It'll be nice to have 'em here."

I felt a little heart-stabbed at that last comment. Nobody said that about _me_ when I came. Not that I know of. He must've noticed my slightly downcast expression and guessed what it was about. "'Course, it's nice to have you here too." It made me smile.

I finished off my tequila and paid Griffin. "G'bye guys, I'll see you around. Most likely tomorrow." I winked and left.

This night, I was again assaulted with the nightmare. The whole time, I just kept feeling so helpless to do anything. I wanted to save the black-haired woman so badly, but I'd no way to do it. However, when again my own lifeless body came into view, things had changed. I was clothed in a short white dress and stabbed in the stomach. And whereas I was so sure I'd been on some sort of mountain before, I couldn't tell now. Now, I was lying in snow.

I awoke not being as upset as I had been before. I knew I couldn't feel anything but helpless about it, so I just kind of shut away the feeling. And boy, was I getting tired of seeing people die. Couldn't I have a normal dream for once?

I got up, showered, dressed and got out my watering can. The pets ran outside when I opened the door, and I let them have their fun. I guess I'd let them be 'outside' pets after all.

My turnips were ready to harvest, so I skipped over them to water everything else. When that was done, I brought out some of the empty moving boxes I still had inside to pick and toss the turnips into. Then, setting the boxes on the kitchen counter, I got out some more potato seeds and tools out of my tool box. I re-tilled the soil where the turnips where and planted the new seeds. After watering was all done, it was well into the afternoon. I'd have even said it was evening.

I replaced the watering can and hoe into the tool box and took out my axe and big-ass hammer. They weren't very heavy, which surprised me. I shrugged it off and went to look for the fields Gotz told me about.

When I crossed the rickety footbridge to Vesta's farm, I found a trail heading south and took it. As I rounded a corner, I saw a house on a slight hill, and all around it was broken branches, fallen trees, stones and boulders-a plenty. I smiled at my luck and started to work.

It was late when I finally called it quits for the night. I grimaced when I realized that I didn't have a way to bring the materials to Gotz, or for that matter, where Gotz was building the house. I wiped some sweat off my brow and winced as my hands ached in complaint. They were completely blistered and, in a couple areas, bleeding. I didn't have any gloves, so I couldn't help it, but I figured I should have at least bandaged them to _prevent_ blisters.

I ran up to the house and knocked on the door. Nobody was answering, so I knocked harder, hoping to get somebody to answer despite the time. Finally, an old man answer. His long face looked tired; I probably woke him up.

"Why're you knocking at this hour? You realize it's midnight?"

"Yes, sir, but I was wondering if you had some paper and a pen I could use. I mean, I don't need the pen afterwards, but I'll need to keep the paper..."

"Sure, I guess, come on in." He turned and started rifling through some things on a table while I stood in the doorway. Not finding anything on the table, he rifled through things in a table drawer and found a couple sheets of paper and a marker. He handed it to me, and I asked to use the table to write. I wrote "DO NOT TOUCH" on the papers and returned the marker. I intended to put the signs on my wood- and stone-piles. Not that I expected anybody to steal it, but I supposed it could help if anyone thought about it.

As I said thank-you and turned to leave, the man said, "You're not from around here, are you? I've never seen you around before."

I sighed and turned back to him. "No, I live on Shadow Farm now. I'm Annika."

"Galen. And my wife Nina is asleep now, or I would introduce her to you too. Pleasure to meet you." We shook hands. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a use for a fishing rod, would you?"

I thought about it for a minute and figured I could. I mean, I could certainly use fish for meals for both me and the pets. It would save on trying to find specialized foods for them.

"Sure, why not?" I nodded. He retrieved a fishing pole from beside the umbrella stand by the door. It was fancy or anything, but it looked in working order.

"I don't have the bones for fishing anymore, or I would still be using it myself. It stinks getting old."

"Um, thanks. See you later," I said, before he could get me sucked into a soliloquy about being old.

After lacing my signs on my piles, I headed to the Blue Bar. I could see a pattern in the making.

Stepping into the Bar, Griffin and Muffy greeted me like before. The Gustafa character as well as Gotz were sitting at the table. "Hey, Gotz!" I called to the guy, who turned around and slapped a seat by him for me to sit down. I did, had Griffin get me a beer, and asked, "So where are you building this thing? I've got a shitload of material to haul to you, but I realized I didn't have a clue where you were constructing."

"Actually, it's just west of here." Gotz jabbed a thumb toward the west wall of the Bar. He smiled and downed his drink.

"What, like right next door?"

"You bet'cha. It's pretty nice, actually. Every day after I call it quits for the night I can just walk right in here and have meself a drink. Looks like you'll have an up in sales this week, Griffin." Griffin chuckled at the comment.

"Shoot, 'cause my stuff's south of Vesta's like you pointed out. It's gonna take me near twenty trips to get it to you." I grimaced and tightened my grip on my beer bottle.

"It's no problem, I'll just get it before I turn in for the night. You got piles of one hundred?"

I shrugged. "I didn't really count. You can just leave extras there, and I'll continue to work on it."

Gotz nodded and sipped his drink. "You mind if I ask what the fishing rod's for?"

"Huh? Oh! Galen gave it to me. I figured I could take up fishing in some of my free time."

"Fishing, eh? Good luck with that."

I raised an eyebrow at him but then remembered something that had been bothering me that morning. "Hey Griffin, I was meaning to ask you. I had my first harvest of turnips this morning, and now I have boxes of just over seventy of the things. I don't know what to do with them, but do you have an idea?"

Griffin scratched his mustache a little and then answered, "Well, I know Vesta takes hers to Mineral Town to ship out. I'm sure you could arrange something with the folks there as well."

I groaned. "You mean I have to go to Mineral Town every time I have a harvest? Dammit, I don't have time! I've got like five different crops growing at one time!"

"Well, maybe you could sell some to the villagers here. Ruby could probably use some vegetables."

"Sure, I guess... But I might talk to Vesta and arrange something with her too."

"Suit yourself. I'll certainly buy strawberries if you're growing them. They're fun to have even when they're not in champagne." Griffin winked and I laughed.

"I'll take you up on that, mark my words." Then I turned to Gotz. "Wanna retrieve my materials? I'll lead you to where I left them. Hopefully neither the stuff nor my tools were stolen."

I took out some money to pay for my drink, but Griffin shoved it back. "Today's Spring Thanksgiving. I'm treating any of the ladies who come in to their drinks." So basically, Gotz still had to pay for his drink, but he didn't really mind.

We got up, headed over to my 'work site' and got the materials. He took all of them, despite the fact I had no idea how many of each I had. After we'd gotten the stuff over to the construction site, I took my tools and fishing rod and headed hope.

I slept peacefully that night, thank _whatever_ deity reigned in the heavens.

The next morning, afternoon, and evening ensued the exact same way as yesterday, with the exception that I had a huge breakfast. I wasn't eating very often, and my stomach had been paying me back for it with massive pains.

Oh, and the little thing about my stupid axe breaking and getting stuck in a tree trunk that afternoon.

I'd gotten done with my farm chores pretty early and decided to spend the rest of the day hacking at wood and smashing rocks. It got some of my general angst over my entire situation out. Until I took a heavy swing and got my axe positively stuck in a tree stump near where I'd been working yesterday. And to make it worse, it broke when I tried to pull it free. Seriously, the head of the axe was completely separate of the handle. I threw the handle as hard as I could and it landed pretty far away. I was quite impressed with myself, in spite of what happened. I glanced at my wristwatch and saw that it was a little after five o'clock. I decided I would go home and try calling around to see what I could do about it. I might've asked Gotz, but the idea didn't cross my mind. And I wasn't sure if Griffin would know anything about where to go to fix tools. The only other person I would ask would be Takakura, but I never knew where the bastard was. And since our last meeting, I was still a little wary of him.

I picked up the thin phone book on the table and decided first to call May about getting gloves.

"Hello? Who is this? This is after hours," May said when she picked up the phone. She sounded irritated, which is just what I needed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know." To be honest, I hadn't thought to look up her hours in the phone book. "I was wondering though, if you could add gloves to my order. This is Annika, by the way."

"Sure, darling. Any particular style or color?" She sounded like she was holding her breath. Probably anxious for how I'd answer that.

"Um, I guess just make them regular work gloves. I don't care about a particular color, 'cause they're just gonna get worn out."

"Oh, they're _work_ gloves? Shoulda said that. Could've saved some time. If that's all, I'll be needing to get back to work now."

"Okay. Thanks May," I said, but she hung up on me. Wow I felt loved.

After that, I flipped through the phone book and found a blacksmith's business. I figured that was the closest I was gonna get. And it wasn't like there was a jubilee of businesses in this area anyway. When I said 'book' I kind of meant 'pamphlet'. A phone 'pamphlet'.

I dialed the number I found and waited for the answer. No one answered the first time around. Either that, or this Sabaira person was trying to get to the phone and I'd given up too soon. Nonetheless, I hung up and tried again. It was picked up on the second ring.

"Sabaira the blacksmith's," the person sighed.

"Um, I..." I had no idea how to explain what happened without sounding like an idiot. "Well, I was chopping up a tree trunk and got my axe stuck. When I tried to pull it free, it broke. The head and handle are totally separate. Think you could fix it for me?"

"Well, this is after hours..." Just my luck. "But I can come out tomorrow morning. Ten sound okay?"

"Sure."

"Okay, where can I find you?"

"Um, the name's Annika. I live on Shadow Farm."

"Meet you at ten, Annika." Then the person, Sabaira I assumed, hung up. Lovely cheerful people this place has, doesn't it?

After the phone call, I picked up this kind of open canvas bag that Gotz lent me. It was basically a long rectangle of cloth with handles at both of the shorter edges. I was supposed to use it to pick up materials, but I wasn't sure how much better it would be than to make several trips by carrying the stuff.

I took this cloth over to where I had another pile of wood. I picked the stuff up and put it on the cloth. And when it was all on top of it, I made myself look like an ass by dragging it across the ground all the way to the construction site. I didn't know what else to do.

"You're supposed to use the handles ta _carry_ it. Now it's probably all torn on the bottom," Gotz said as I approached with it. And sure enough, there were some shallow gashes on the bottom of the cloth-thing after we'd unloaded it.

"How was I supposed to know?" I asked defiantly.

"Yeah, how were you? I explained it when I gave it to you, were you listening?" I just huffed and made a pouting face as I folded my arms over my chest like a child. "Anyway, here's the money I owe for the other stuff. I'm keeping track of it all as it comes in." And he handed me some bills with large denominations. I smiled greedily at it and tucked it into my pocket.

"So you got any more comin'?

"Well, I kind of broke my axe, but I could work on getting more stone."

"Have at it then," he said and went back to work. I must say, I was impressed with his progress. Yesterday, he'd already had the entire framework. Today, he had all the inside walls made. He was going to be done by Saturday, I was sure. And to be honest, I was interested in meeting the new people myself. Maybe they'd be 'new bloods' rather than me. Not that it peeved me all that much.

The rest of the evening, I smashed rocks. My hands were bleeding pretty badly by the time I felt I was done for the day, so I went home and bandaged them before I took the material to Gotz. After he collected it, we both went to the Blue Bar for a drink. I got pretty hammered if I was truthful. Gotz actually had to carry me home, because I couldn't see straight enough to find the door. I'd ended up running into the space of wall right next to it and falling flat on my back. I'd have laughed if I wasn't unconscious. You know how it is.

In the morning I woke up to an obnoxious knocking sound. My head was hurting something awful, so I tried to throw a pillow in the direction of the noise, which only ended with it bouncing off the wall and landing in the middle of my little round rug I'd placed in my bedroom. I sat up suddenly, having wondered how I got here, but then vaguely remembered what had happened.

The knocking sound persisted and I shuffled tiredly to the door. _Who the hell is trying to bother me while I'm suffering from a hangover?_ I couldn't help but wonder. I opened the door and I nearly shit myself.

Standing there was this _really_ cute guy dressed in a tan button-down shirt and jeans. His bronze-colored hair was just visible underneath a blue cap with illegible letters written across it. And his eyes—to say the least, they were one of the most gorgeous shades of blue I'd ever seen. I found myself standing there stupidly and blushing.

The guy ducked his head and pulled his hat down a little. It miffed me a bit that he'd do that. "What's wrong?" I had to ask.

"Should I be asking you that? You look... well, terrible."

I would have been angry with the statement if I hadn't realized what he meant. "Hang on a second. You can sit down inside if you want," I told him and made a beeline for the bathroom. Sure enough, my reflection was that of someone who was sleep-deprived, had had too much to drink, or both. My hair was tousled and sticking out in several places and my eyes were sporting rather ugly dark rings underneath them as well as being bloodshot. And to top it all off, I of course was in my PJs.

I slipped out of the bathroom carefully and grabbed some clothes from my dresser before slipping back into the bathroom to shower and dress. I tried to make it quick so that I wasn't being rude and making the cute guy wait.

When I was finished, I eyed myself carefully in the mirror. I didn't look nearly as bad as I had before. My eyes were still a little puffy and dark underneath, but it wasn't nearly as visible. Satisfied, I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and stepped into the front room.

The guy was reading one of my books from the bookshelf. I could tell, because there was a space in the books where it was supposed to be. I didn't mind though. "Hey, sorry for the wait. I, uh, had a drinking binge last night and well. Let's just say I don't remember how I got back here last night." Why did I say that? I couldn't justify it in my mind.

"That's okay. I admit I'm a little early anyway." Looking at my wristwatch, I saw that he was right. It was only just ten now, and I _know_ I'd taken at least fifteen minutes freshening up, as it were.

"Well, shall we get going?" I asked, opening the door, stepping out, and holding it open for the man.

"Where exactly did you say you'd broken this axe?"

"I didn't say, if I remember correctly. But it's south of Vesta's farm. I trust you know where that is?"

"Of course."

We made some small talk on the way to the accursed tree stump that held my axe. "Alright, Sabaira, this is it."

The guy laughed and said, "I'm not Sabaira. I'm the guy's grandson."

"Oh. Sorry," I said, cursing myself internally for making the assumption.

"It's no problem. If I'm right and you just moved in, you wouldn't have known."

I smiled and asked, "So what _is_ your name?"

"Gray," he said, holding out his hand for me to shake.

"Gray? I'm Annika. I'm sorry for your loss."

He cocked his head to one side with a confused expression on his face. "My loss?"

"Your childhood. It must've been terrible."

Gray literally laughed out loud at my joke. "Well, you're partially right. I've been an apprentice to my grandfather since I was twelve. He nicknamed me 'Gray' since he said my work was always a 'gray area.' Sometimes it was good, and sometimes it was terrible, but you just never knew." He sighed bitterly. "Wow, I'm sorry. I usually don't aim to depress people when I first meet them."

I had to admit, I _was_ feeling really sad for him. "Don't worry about it. So, do you want me to call you Gray or what?"

He shrugged. "You can call me Gray. I mean, if you called me by my real name, no one would know who you were talking about. The name Gray has been spread around too much to change it at this point. And I'm getting used to it anyway."

"What _is_ your real name?" I asked.

"Greg."

"I think I like that a lot better, but I'll call you Gray if you say so. How old are you? I mean, how long have you been called that?"

"Half of my life. I'm sure you can do the math."

I nodded and smiled sadly. "Half of your life you've been called that? Does your grandfather still think that about your work? Or did it just stick after a while?"

"Well, every time I think I'm doing swimmingly, the old fool tells me I still need improvement. I swear it's as if he's too above giving compliments to me."

"But you've stuck to it for all this time? I'm impressed," I told him. And I really was impressed; I wasn't just saying it.

Gray blushed and said, "Thanks." We stood in an awkward silence for a moment before he asked, "So where's the handle? I can see the axe head wedged in this stump, but not the handle."

"Oh. Right," I said, and I ran off in the direction I threw it. It took me a little while to find it in the grass and weeds, and I wasn't exactly sure where it had landed either. After five minutes of searching, I held up the handle triumphantly and called out, "Found it!" I returned to Gray and placed it in his open palm. He'd already gotten the axe head loose from the stump. "How did you get that thing out?"

He shrugged and said, "I kind of wiggled it out, I guess. In the end it just took a good tug." I stared at him in surprise for a moment. I'd tried to pull that thing out for nearly half an hour and ended up breaking the damn thing. How could _he_ do it so easily? I figured he must be well-built or something, which made me smile.

"So, can you fix it?"

"Of course. I can get it back to you tomorrow, good as new."

"Thanks so much! Wait, how much is this going to cost me?"

"Nothing, since I'm just reattaching the blade. If you wanted me to smith a brand new axe, it would have cost you. But this is just a repair, so I'll do it for free."

"Thank you," I said appreciatively, and I tiptoed to hug him quickly. He was blushing when I pulled away. Normally I wasn't a giddy school-girl type when it came to guys, but I found myself blushing as well. I almost had that insane impulse to giggle, but I held it back. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure. Try not to have another drinking binge. I felt bad waking you up like that this morning."

My face reddened even more, but this time with embarrassment. "No problem. I'll just have a water or something."

"Sounds good to me. You take care now," Gray said, and headed north up the eastern pathway toward where I knew was the pathway through the mountains toward Mineral Town. I watched him leave until I couldn't see him anymore, then I went home to get my farm chores done.

I found that day by day, the farming gets easier and easier to accomplish. Or rather, it doesn't take quite so long. The reason for it, for the most part, is because all I had to do was water the damn crops. Harvesting the turnips the other day was a bitch though. I couldn't imagine taking care of livestock and poultry in addition to the crops, but it was inevitable. I wanted a duck, dammit!

As soon as the chores were done, I grabbed my hammer to smash more rocks. I supposed I could have easily gone around introducing myself to people I missed, but I figured I'd take the chance to make some money while the opportunity was staring me in the face. I was relieved to hear Gray say he could get my axe fix for tomorrow. A little bump in the road wouldn't hurt, as far as material-collecting went.

This time, I remembered to bandage my hands beforehand. They still stung, due to the fact that the work caused my cuts to split open again, but it was better than getting dirt and shit in them. Thinking of positives, you know?

I'd cleared out most of the fields south of Vesta's, so I thought I'd move to the dig site, wherever that was. I thought I'd ask Vesta herself, but thought better of it. Since I felt better acquainted with Griffin, I headed in the direction of the Blue Bar to ask him where it was.

"Well, well, still walking are we?" Griffin greeted me as I walked in. I mumbled a rude response, but he didn't hear it.

"I'll be back later, but I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the dig site? Gonna go rock-smashing over there."

"Sure, it's north of Vesta's farm. But you'll need to head toward the east part of the farm in order to find the little pathway. I've only seen it once, but I don't care to go again. I'm sure you'll find _plenty _of material for Gotz," he said confidently. I thanked him and headed over.

I found the path he spoke of quite easily, which was a surprise to me, since it was so... well, small. I bet if I wasn't looking for it I wouldn't have found it. It was like Narnia, you had to believe it was there.

I burned the rest of daylight in the fields in front of the dig site, doing exactly what I'd been doing the last few days. I had the cloth thingy slung over my shoulder so that I could use it to deliver the materials when I felt I was finished for the day. The usual, it felt like, even though it was only my third day doing it.

However, I ran into the arche-whatsits when they left the dig site's cave entrance. They noticed me a distance away and called me over.

"I haven't seen you around here before! What's your name?" the cheery strawberry blonde asked me as I approached.

"Annika. I'm taking up the farming at Shadow Farm. Yourself?"

"I'm Flora, and this is Carter." She gestured to the man with her, who was the slat-and-pepper-haired man I'd met in the Blue Bar before.

"Yes, we've met," I told her, which was probably a bad idea, because she donned a peeved expression on her face.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, Griffin introduced me when I went to the Blue Bar for the first time. He and a few others just happened to be there at the time."

Flora's peeved expression faded into a smile. "Oh, ok. Say, you ever consider helping us dig every once in a while? You can keep whatever you find, just show us before you run off."

"What kind of stuff you got in there?" I didn't feel like breaking my neck over fossils.

"Oh all kinds of things. Lots of gems. _Lots_."

This got my attention. "Like what?"

"Oh, pretty much everything under the sun. Precious stones and stuff like that. Precious metals, too."

"I'd love to help. I just have to juggle it around with farming, but that shouldn't be a problem. But I'll probably wait until Saturday to do any excavating."

"Why, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Oh, Gotz is paying me for construction materials for this house he's building by the Blue Bar. The deadline's Saturday."

"I see. Well, tell Gotz 'good luck' for us, and we'll leave you alone to do your work," Flora said and pulled Carter by the arm to the tent a bit west of the cave entrance. It was a little after eight o'clock, so I figured I'd work another two hours and then return to the Bar.

And that's what I did.

I dragged the materials to Gotz, who paid me for the materials from the previous day and scolded me for dragging the stuff again. But I couldn't help myself. How could he expect me to _lift_ a pile of cut stone? I paid him back for the drinks I had last night, which I was too incapacitated to pay for myself.

When I entered the Blue Bar and sat down, I didn't really feel like drinking. I owed it to the promise I'd made Gray, which was kind of ridiculous anyway. He was practically a stranger, so who cared if I drank? But I guess I did.

"I'll just have a water tonight, Griffin," I said.

"Really? What's wrong?" Griffin asked me, casting a concerned gaze in my direction as he blindly filled my glass with water.

"Nothing's wrong. Just thought I'd take it easy, is all."

"Good idea, especially after last night." And this was when I'd gotten the full story about what happened, just to let you know.

We chatted a little about some random topics, and somehow we got onto the topic of my broken axe. I told Griffin about how I'd called Gray to fix it and that I'd have it tomorrow.

"Gray, huh? Nice guy. Comes here every Thursday."

"Really? Why?"

"Thursdays are his day-off. He visits that day, but spends most of his time marveling over the stuff Flora and Carter have at their dig site before finally coming here in the evening."

"But I was here last Thursday. Why didn't I see him then?"

"You'd missed him by like half an hour."

"Oh," was all I could manage. I failed to hide my disappointment, which made Griffin snicker.

"Well, I think I'll head home then, Griffin. See you tomorrow."

I left, arrived home, and fell asleep right away.

Let me tell you, it was an utter relief when I was awoken by the sound of knocking the next morning. The same nightmare came again, but this time I'd practically experienced my own death. It was so vivid, I could almost feel the knife piercing my stomach.

I dressed quickly and combed through my hair well enough that it didn't look quite so obvious that I'd just woken up. Then I opened the door. Gray was standing there, still as gorgeous as ever, holding my axe at his side. He held it out to me and said with a smile, "Good as new."

I took it from him and placed it on top of my tool chest. Turning back to him I said, "Thanks."

We stood there in an awkward silence, both of us kind of wondering what the other would say or do. Finally, Gray said, "Um, this'll sound a little awkward..."

"Mhmm?"

"Well, I guess I thought we'd got off on a good start yesterday, so... I'd be honored if you agreed to date me." He bowed his head and readjusted his hat. It was something I noticed he did in awkward or embarrassing situations. Like when I'd greeted him yesterday wearing pajamas.

I felt my heart thudding in my chest, my mind awhirl with a bunch of different thoughts. Most of which were confusing. While he was technically a stranger, I felt like I knew him a little better than that, from the conversation we had yesterday. Something in the back of my mind told me that there probably weren't a lot of people who knew his real name, if everyone still called him 'Gray'. And I couldn't believe my luck. Just a week into my new life in Forget-Me-Not and I'd already snagged a guy. I got game!

I smiled, blushing slightly and said, "I would love to, Gray." The relief on his face when he looked back up at me was endearing. I couldn't help but giggle a little. "Well, I hate to send you off already, but I've got some farm work to do. And I'd like to break in this axe."

"It's no problem. I have to get back to grandpa. He'll kick my ass if I take too long on this house visit," Gray replied, laughing. I laughed too.

"Can I expect to see you on Thursday, then?"

Gray looked curiously at me and said, "Yeah... Can I ask how you knew?"

"Griffin told me Thursdays are your day off," I said simply.

"Oh. Right." He smiled and said good-bye, that he'd see me Thursday, and left.

Giddiness wasn't even close to describing the inner joy I had. 'Joy' wasn't very close either.


	7. A Midnight Swim

_**A Midnight Swim?**_

The remainder of that week deviated of the same schedule I'd taken up at the beginning: Wake, eat, farm, forage, drink. Suffice it to say that Wednesday was disappointing in that the Blue Bar was closed. I was tempted to sit outside the door until Griffin returned later that night, but I was worried about my reputation, kind of. I already appeared to be the Blue Bar's best customer, if you catch my drift. In just about a week of being here, I was becoming dangerously close to being dubbed the "town drunk", which was endlessly depressing for me. I could've sworn I'd learned my lesson in the city. But, I guess even short-lived old habits die hard.

I did, however, run into Griffin as I returned from my visit with Gotz. He had several paper bags in his arms, and appeared to be struggling with unlocking the bar doors. I graciously lent him a hand. When inside, he grinned slyly and told me he had a surprise for me. I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, but my eyes lit up when he took out a wine bottle out of one of his paper sacks.

"Aja Wine," he told me, holding it out with a hand on the bottom and the neck, like he was a wine salesman trying to convince me to purchase. "Made over at the winery in Mineral Town, but easily the best I've ever tasted. Obviously, it's not hard liquor like you've taken up drinking, but probably a better substitute." He winked and set it on the bar table by my arm. I winced at his inference.

"Why did you get this for me?" I asked suspiciously.

"Well, you're easily my best customer. To be perfectly honest, this didn't cost me nearly as much as I've made this past week." He chuckled heartily. "Besides, I figure I could help the winery out a little by subtly advertising it to you. Not so subtle now that I've told you, though, is it?"

I smiled in spite of myself. "No, I'm pretty sure you've failed at subtlety. Better focus your energy at something you can do better."

"Yeah, no kidding." He tapped the wine bottle by my arm. "Want to have a taste with me while you're here? It's yours, so you can take it now if you don't."

"Sure, break out the wine glasses."

And thus Wednesday proved to be amazing despite the fact that the Blue Bar was _supposed_ to be closed.

The next day, I woke up with my stomach aflutter with anticipation. I intended to fully shirk any and all work and chores today to spend time with Greg—Gray. I hoped he was the same way.

That Thursday, we picnicked out by the waterfall by the dig site. The whole day was basically an intense, and perhaps a little frantic, get-to-know-you session. We tried to answer anything and everything under the sun that we thought of asking. We ran into a couple of hard, or otherwise painful, questions that we politely refused to answer. By the end of the day, we were laughing together like we'd known each other our whole lives. To say the least, I was definitely more comfortable around him than I had been. 

That school-girl giddiness returned with a vengeance when I saw him walking down the beaten path into Forget-Me-Not. I'd tried hard, and failed, to not act over-eager. It had been amusing to him, which I supposed justified it a little in my mind.

"So, how long have you been here?" Gray finally thought to ask.

I shrugged. "A week, week and a half? Long enough to know I want to stay," I said, giving him a wink.

This caused a smile to appear on his face and he followed up with another question. "Farm work suiting you well?"

I grimaced at my returning discomforting thoughts about the way things were going at the farm. "I think I planted too much for me to handle without really letting myself get used to it first, you know what I mean? And I have no way of making a profit, since I don't know who I can sell to. The turnips I had ready are already starting to look a little off…"

Gray pondered this for a minute before answering with the following thought: "Well, the farmer in Mineral Town sips her vegetables through Zack, who gives her the money she made the following day. Maybe you can arrange something with him as well."

Admittedly, I got really excited at the prospect of one less problem to have to deal with, but it got shot down by my new train of thought. This Zack person probably didn't want to make daily trips over here, but maybe someone else wouldn't mind. I voiced this thought aloud to Gray.

"Tell you what, I'll ask the mayor of Mineral Town when I get back, if we can arrange something. He's one of those oddly eager sorts…" His expression of confusion—and a little bit of horror—forced a laugh out of me. I wondered what form the mayor's eccentricity took. Any more of Celia's, and I would be hard-pressed to think I'd spend too much time in the neighboring town.

We talked about _his_ profession for the rest of the evening. And, as much as I thought I would be bored to tears by the life of a blacksmith, I was actually pretty interested. I secretly hoped he would teach me some stuff so I could smith crazy things like swords to hang up on my walls. The thought brought a smile to my face. Maybe I could convince Gray to do it for me…

He interrupted my scheming to ask me, "So, want to go to the Blue Bar for a drink?"

I hesitated, thinking about what Griffin, and most likely the rest of the town, was saying. "We could go to my house for dinner and some wine…" I trailed off when I noticed his eyebrows knotting, like he was trying to find double meaning to my words. Not wanting his mind to revert to something I really _wasn't_ thinking, I quickly said, "I don't know how welcome I am at the Blue Bar. I mean, I guess I've become a _really good customer_, if you know what I mean." He seemed to understand, and his expression brightened. "You'd think Griffin would be more eager to have me back…"

Gray laughed, "I was going to say something playfully insulting, but decided against it. Forget I said anything." He bit his lower lip as if he were trying hard not to keep laughing, or else not to say what he was thinking. I snickered a little and got up, holding a hand to help him up too.

The evening continued with me cooking what I thought was an admittedly lousy dinner and serving it with a glass of wine for both of us. Gray was gracious and didn't mention my lack of amazing cooking skills.

I walked him up to the path to Mineral Town, where we said good-bye. "Until next week," Gray said, winking. He kissed the tip of my nose and turned to leave. My wide smile didn't disappear until I found myself walking away, toward home again. It was late, but the time didn't bother me that much as I made my way back.

I looked all around as I passed through Vesta's farm. You could hardly see the moon tonight, but the unclouded sky allowed it to bathe the valley in a soft glow. It wasn't as clear as I might have thought the moon would allow, but, as much as I wanted to take my time and take in the scenery, I felt the pull to get home. Sleep sounded amazing to me at that moment, and I probably could've fallen asleep on the ground in front of Vesta's house and store if it weren't for the fact I was keeping moving.

I stepped carefully across the rail-less, rickety bridge, unfailing to make it creak as I did. A slight breeze caught and blew my hair softly about my face. Stopping, I closed my eyes and focused on the breeze. I supposed it was pretty counter intuitive, considering how tired I'd quickly become. The breeze was comforting, but I was losing my balance, since my eyes were closed and I lacked a center point of balance. I snapped my eyes open; not because of my swaying, but because I heard the footbridge behind me creak under someone's weight. I tensed, suddenly spooked. Sighing and re-gathering my resolve, I continued up the road in the direction of my farm.

Mere minutes later, the front gate was in view, several yards ahead. Relief flooded inside me when I caught sight of my goal. I began to pick up my pace when I suddenly felt a hand grabbing my shoulder and tugging to turn me around.

Severely frightened out of my wits, I responded with the only way I could think: violence. I whirled around and swung blindly at my "attacker," and tackled the person to the ground. I pinned them there by sitting on them, straddling their waist. I'd pulled my arm back to throw a punch before I realized who my assailant was.

Skye.

And he had the most ridiculously satisfied grin on his pale face. I raised a brow in curiosity and he laughed delightedly. "Now, now, my fair maiden, we've only just met! Isn't it a little _soon_ to attempt jumping my bones? Don't get me wrong, I'm a bit turned on by the feistiness.

I grimaced with disgust, choking back bile, but I didn't relinquish my hold on him. I kept my fist poised and ready to beat the living daylights out of him, should the need arise. "What are you doing here?" I asked with narrowing eyes.

"Why, to see you, of course," he said with mock surprise. "Why do you think I would approach you if not to hear your melodic voice again? You know, I've been thinking a lot about you as of late." It seemed his furious demeanor from the night we met was completely gone, which surprised me. I was pretty sure I'd offended him greatly by mistaking him for a woman.

But then I saw with my peripheral vision his arms snaking up the sides of my legs. Now, I felt his fingers about my hips. Realizing in that moment what he was trying to do—something I was proud of myself for doing, since I usually didn't thinking nearly that quickly—I grabbed his hands, digging my nails into his soft skin. He yelped in response and pulled his hands away. I got up and stood to one side, but put a foot on his stomach. I heard the whoosh of air escape his lips, which gave me the satisfaction of seeing that stupid grin wiped from his face.

"You did _not_ just try to steal from me," I told him in a solemn, threatening tone of voice. He smirked, denying nothing, but it earned him a stomp into his stomach from the foot I'd placed there. He arched concavely, grunting. "I'm working my ass off for the money I've made, and I'm not about to be cheated from it by the likes of _you_." He rolled his eyes and got the same punishment. I put a hand on my hip and wagged my finger at him like a mother scolding a child. "Stay away from here, you thieving sonofabitch. I don't like seeing any of these people worrying or fretting about whether their things are safe from you. I swear, if you come back, I _will_ retaliate," I finished menacingly, folding my arms across my chest.

His eyes opened wide with a mixture of shock and horror. "You mean you don't call _this_ retaliation?" Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. I took my foot off of his stomach and held out a hand to help him up. When he was done brushing himself off, he looked up at me. Using two fingers, I pointed to my eyes then pointed one finger at him in the "I'm watching you" motion. He laughed, but humored me by retreating toward the exit of the valley—the pathway to Mineral Town, I realized. I also realized, with sudden annoyance, that he never made any promise to stay away. I knew he would be back.

And thus ended my exciting and eventful Thursday.

Friday was eventful as well, in the fact that May came by with my bountiful order of clothing, as well as a couple extra goodies. In addition to the shirts, jeans, work gloves, and cowboy boots that were all masterfully sewn, she'd made a small black backpack and apron skirt, which matched each other perfectly. The backpack was simple, but with strategically-placed pockets on the lining inside. The apron skirt was about a foot tall, covering my upper-thighs when I tied it around my hips. The thing was long enough so that the part with the pockets only wrapped around my hips by a small amount. It had pockets running along the whole thing, one that was bigger than the others. She explained that they were to replace my need for the canvas bag that I'd borrowed from Vesta and never returned. I could use the apron thing for animal feed, seeds, money, whatever and carry additional heavy or big things in the backpack. Both things were tastefully feminine-looking, to my great relief.

I set to breaking in my boots that day, which kind of sucked since my hands were already tender and sore from cuts and blisters and now my feet would follow suit. The rest of the day continued like normal, including stopping by the Blue Bar for drinks. I toned it down considerably, choosing some 

beverages with less than forty percent alcohol. I was hardly even buzzed, like I usually was. I never drank _too _much.

That Saturday was crazy as far as everything that happened. I shirked my laboring that day too, unless you count the mining I did with Flora and Carter that evening.

I'd showered and dressed and was preparing to go to meet the newcomers, already having promised to myself I wouldn't revert to calling them "new bloods" which was inevitable from the rest of the town. Yesterday when I gave Gotz the last of the materials for my next round of payment, he was almost entirely finished with the ornate two-story house. All that was left to do was detailing. He thanked me wholeheartedly for my help that week and I had told him not to mention it, that I was excited for the new neighbors.

The twins looked so much like each other, yet still very different. Their physical traits were easy to compare: they both had icy blonde hair, high cheekbones, straight noses, and cerulean eyes, among other features. Cheyenne seemed to rebel against their similarities in the fact that she highlighted her hair with strawberry blonde streaks. The icy blonde and strawberry blonde complimented each other nicely. I imagined that it would have been easy for her to accomplish, since she was a hairstylist.

Her brother—the cop, Carlisle—was immaculate. His muscles were well-distributed and not bulging like body sculptors, and he had a broad chest. He looked incredibly strong, which wasn't only due to the fact that he was just under a foot taller than me. Standing beside him, the top of my head would just barely reach his jaw line.

I helped them get moved in, making quick friends. We chatted about the pains of moving as well as other topics including how I liked the valley and whether the townspeople were nice. It seemed as though they hadn't looked into that when they'd commissioned the house. I couldn't help but wonder what they'd have done if everyone shunned them as new neighbors? Move? Hardly, after they'd spent money on getting the house built. I shrugged the thoughts aside as we got to know each other a little.

I committed to showing them the Blue Bar that night at ten. I was glad no one else was there, or they might've snickered or something else that would've caused me to blush.

After we had lunch together, I made my leave and headed back to my own home to grab some tools and my backpack. Time for mining.

Flora and Carter were ecstatic that I was helping them today, to say the least. They hooked me up with a harness or sorts and some electric lamps, which I was to set up when I got to lower levels where they hadn't been yet. They gave me a walkie-talkie and sent me down.

In some of the upper levels, I didn't find very many gemstones or things that were worth taking along. I surmised that this was because Flora and Carter had already made a good sweep of these higher levels. But the lower I got, the size, rarity, and the quantity of the things I found increased. I might not have known much about the pricing and economy of gemstones, but I knew money when I saw it, and my vision was positively green when I set up a lamp in a particularly full level of the cave. I didn't even have 

enough room in my backpack for it all! I mostly took what I knew was the most costly of gems: alexandrite, pink diamonds, diamonds, rubies. By the time I got to the point where I traded down slightly to rubies, my backpack was already too heavy for me to bear. I fit a few rubies in my pockets. Mind you, these stones were gigantic. Untreated, of course, but really huge.

I pressed the talk button on the walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "Okay, Carter, pull me up!"

Slowly, the two of them were able to pull my weight as well as the extra weight of my spoils up to the surface again. Their eyes nearly popped out of their head when I showed them. We took the backpack to the tent, which is when we realized how late it was getting. Actually, I was technically late for my "date" with Cheyenne and Carlisle. I let them keep the backpack for the night, and they promised to work them into smooth, faceted gems that would rake in a bunch of dough. "Especially with the demand of diamonds as of late," Flora nodded.

I stepped out into the night and sighed. It was ten after ten, according to my wristwatch, but I was sure that the twins wouldn't mind my being late. I mean, what was the hurry?

Heartened by my train of thought, I set out. There was no moon in the sky. Okay, I knew it was there, but it was rotated in such a fashion where it could not reflect the sun's light onto the valley. In effect, it was completely cloaked in darkness. A big contrast to two nights ago. I squinted into the dark, but couldn't see much past maybe a couple feet in front of me. The stars, I guessed, helped a little.

I knew my way back pretty well, so I was unhindered with obstacles most of the way there. Until I ran into _him_.

I stepped onto the footbridge, but the lack of creaking didn't register to me until _after_ I stubbed my toes into something. I heard an "oof" of surprise and a subsequent splash of water. I grabbed blindly at whatever I'd kicked into the rushing river, but only succeeding in losing my balance and falling into the water myself.

At first, I was irritated because despite the weather, the river was pretty cold. Then, I panicked, because the river was taking me quickly downstream toward the ocean, and I was still underneath the surface. It might not look very deep at a glance, but now I experienced first-hand how deep it really was.

Trying to stand on one of the rocks at the bottom of the river, I could get only my head above the surface. But of course, when my feet finally found some purchase on the rocks, I was again swept by the currents. I ran into something hard and grabbed at it, since it was moving with me. I could feel that it was a person. I let go, not wanting to weigh him or her down if they too were being swept away as I was.

Whoever the person was, they were suddenly gone. I grudgingly realized that they must've managed to pull themselves out. But the moment I realized it, it was forgotten due to my rising panic.

Suddenly, I felt someone grabbing my forearm and wrenching my arm upward. My shoulder cracked sickeningly, but I ignored the pain in the prospect of being free of my water prison. I whipped my other 

arm forward in hope that my savior would be able to use both of my hands to pull me out. That's how I'd always assumed it would work. That was the way it was done on TV, anyway.

But it didn't really work that way, because while my savior was tugging my arm, the river was also pushing at me to sweep me away again. If he or she let go of my one arm to grab the other, they'd lose the grip altogether.

How was this unassuming river so powerful, anyway?

With one huge tug, my savior was able to completely free me from the water. They fell backward, bringing me with them. I flopped onto their stomach, which was heaving from the quick gulps of air they were taking in. I looked up and realized my savior was a man. But one I've never met before.

We helped each other up and stood awkwardly facing each other, waiting for the other to speak. I was the first one to do so. "Um, sorry about that. I kicked something into the water, but lost my balance trying to figure out what it was." I shrugged. Shivers racked up my spine, causing my teeth to shake. The same problem grabbed hold of my savior.

"Wait. That was _you_?" the guy asked incredulously. I was confused by his statement, and I made it obvious by asking what the hell he was talking about.

"I was sitting on the footbridge when something shoved me into the river. What were you _doing_?" He sounded angry, but the angst over what happened disappeared as suddenly as it came. "Sorry. It wasn't your fault; I—I sit there every week. Something like this was bound to happen, I suppose." He shrugged sadly and shoved his hands into his dripping pants' pockets. I struggled to stifle a laugh over his quickly changing mood.

"Um, well, I'm Annika. Thanks for getting me out of there."

"Cliff," the man muttered, not meeting my gaze. I felt bad that he seemed so downcast, so I did something that I wouldn't have expected of myself.

"Well, Cliff, would you come over to my house? You could get dried off, and I'll treat you to dinner." What the hell was I saying?

Cliff, in turn, looked very embarrassed. He removed a hand from his pocket to scratch the back of his neck. "Sure. Thanks for the offer…"

I hooked my arm around his and led him toward my home. It surprised me how long it took to find again and supposed that the river had taken me farther than I thought.

When we arrived, I went into my room to grab some clothes to change into, and then I assisted Cliff by bringing him a couple of large and fluffy bath towels. When I handed him the towels, I got my first good look at him—what with the noticeably better light in the room.

Cliff was well-built in a subtle way. Whereas Carlisle had visible and well-distributed muscles and Gray had mostly muscle in his upper torso and arms, Cliff had a combination of both. His muscle was slight, but also well-distributed. A pleasure to my eyes, to be sure. It was then I realized how much I was attracted to—er, _appreciated_—muscle in men.

Cliff had brown hair—and brown is pretty much the only word to describe it; there was no creative way to describe the color. It looked to be about shoulder-length, but he had it tied at the nape of his neck. I wondered why he did so, because his hair appeared to be layered—half of his hair was too short to be kept in the ponytail. Nonetheless, his long bangs made the entire look pretty attractive.

I couldn't say the same about his clothing though. No need to torture by going in-depth about it, so suffice it to say that he could use a wardrobe change if that's the way he dressed all of the time.

"So, Cliff, what are you hungry for?" I asked when I stopped staring at him in my assessment. He was looking determinedly at the coffee table, so I didn't think he noticed.

"I don't suppose you can make curry rice?" Cliff asked, supplying a question for a question.

"I'll have to see if I have the ingredients," I told him, but honestly, I had no idea if I could make the dish. I'd never really heard of it before, but I would try to be a good little hostess and please my house guest if I could.

I looked in every cabinet and drawer and, quite ironically, I found a cookbook in the last place I looked. I flipped through to find curry dishes. To my great surprise, there were several variations of curry dishes, and I had no idea which to pick. It's not like I'd have a preference, and I was a little embarrassed to ask Cliff which kind of curry rice, exactly, did he like. Guys could be really vague sometimes, and I badly wanted to avoid that frustrating conversation if I could help it.

I finally decided on preparing the dish my mother had creatively dubbed "special" curry rice. In the process, however, I wasn't so sure it would be very "special" at all, considering the strange ingredients that went into it. My only real comfort in how it was going was when Cliff commented that it smelled really good. He was the expert here, after all.

I served the dish tentatively, afraid that I might've really screwed something up while cooking. I wasn't that great of a cook in the first place. Gray could vouch for that statement. But Cliff dug in eagerly and swore to me that it was the best, nay the _finest_ curry, he'd ever had. I couldn't help but blush at the compliment. I chose to try my cooking myself, which might've been a better idea to do before serving it in the first place, but logic had escaped me. He was right; it _was _good, if I do say so myself.

Looking up from my plate, I noticed that Cliff was staring in intense concentration at the food he'd stabbed onto his fork. Suddenly worried, I asked if there was something wrong with the food. My question broke his daze and he startled. Shaking his head, he smiled and nullified my fears. "Actually, I was just thinking that this might do well as a dish in the Cooking Festival."

"W-what? The Cooking Festival?"

Cliff looked at me curiously for a second, then turned his gaze away, back to his plate. "How long _have_ you been here?"

"Maybe two weeks? Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Oh, then that's probably why you didn't know…" he mumbled. He spoke up for what he said next. "The Cooking Festival is held every year on Spring the 22nd—that's tomorrow. Residents of both Mineral Town and Forget-Me-Not will come and sample the various dishes that are entered, but the Gourmet is the one who officially judges. He scares me a little," he gulped and then continued, "But I think you have a pretty good shot. I mean, why not? It's always the same people every year anyway."

"Yeah, why not? I could certainly meet Mineral Town residents while I'm there… Where is it?"

"It switches locations between towns every year. This year it'll be on the beach here in Forget-Me-Not."

I nodded thoughtfully, and then a new thought occurred to me. "Where is it exactly that you live, Cliff?"

"I live in Mineral Town," he said, shrugging, "not for long though." His face clouded over in a worried and saddened expression.

"Really? Why is that?"

"I've been staying in the Inn there, but I'm running out of money for the… I guess you could call it 'rent'. The place is more like a small apartment building with the people that live there. And then I make weekly visits here, paying more money to feed and room myself at the Inner Inn." He sighed. "I wish I could find a job in town or something, but everyone seems to be running their own businesses on their own."

"That's rough. I wish I could sympathize, but I wouldn't really know what to say; it's never really happened to me."

"How did you come upon this farm in the first place?"

I explained the situation to him, which resulting in a lengthy conversation concerning our families and friends in what felt now like "past lives". We talked a long time about other, often random, things even after dinner was over. I got the idea that Cliff was a naturally shy person when we first met and talked, so it was nice to see him talking animatedly with me. Of course, not all of our conversations earned animated discussion… Sometimes one or both of us would feel the need to change topics or risk going down a deep or depressing a path in our talk. In effect, I felt as though we would make good friends.

"Say, do you know what time it is?" Cliff asked. I looked around for a clock and realized I didn't have one in this front room. I opted instead to look at my watch which, to my amazement, still worked after the apparent water damage. My eyes widened at the time. It was two in the morning. When I told Cliff, he too widened his eyes in surprise. "I guess I ought to get going. Thanks for the meal," he said, still not meeting my gaze when he talked to me. But this time, his gaze was downcast rather than shifted awkwardly to another direction.

I patted his arm and said, "It's no problem. Come by any time and we can chat some more. Or, you know, whatever." I figured it more a girl thing to visit exclusively to have a chat. He smiled appreciatively and stood up. After removing the towels he was using to dry off in, he headed for the front door. I left the towels he handed me on the loveseat where I was sitting and moved to open the door for him. We exchanged good-byes and see-you-tomorrows and went separate ways.


End file.
